


A Little Too Ironic

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is an alpha werewolf, Discussion of menstrual cycles, Doctor Visits, End game Steter, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Gynecological Exam, Human Malia, Human Theo, I call the Sheriff Andrew, I love Coach, M/M, Malia isn't Peter's daughter, Masturbation, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pain draining, Pretty much everything through 3A happened, Scott is the best friend ever, Slow Burn, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Warnings May Change, but nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is an omega who needs to find a trusted alpha, purely for legal reasons. Peter Hale is probably not his first choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After reading a ton of them, this is the first A/B/O fic I've written! 
> 
> Male omegas develop a vagina and female alphas develop a penis, because I like the "third gender" fics. And I don't like butt-babies. 
> 
> In later chapters, I'll update the ratings and warnings and put in notes for any warnings as well. There'll be some mention of planned non-con in a later chapter and there'll be plenty of warnings on it. 
> 
> Questions or concerns, please let me know. 
> 
> Oh, and if this isn't your cup of tea, don't read it, no one is making you. There's plenty of other good things to read.

“Stiles. Stiles? Are you even listening to me?”

Stiles startles and looks over at his best friend, the boy/man he’s known since they were both six and Stiles shared his lunch on the first day of kindergarten. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry, bro, I’m just a little distracted. So what’s up?”

Scott sighs and flops back on his bed. “I was saying that Allison’s upset. She thinks there’s something wrong with her. She didn’t give me all the detail, but…” he stops and looks around the room as though there’s hidden cameras somewhere. “She said she’s woken up a couple of times and she was… she was wet. In her, you know, her panties.”

“So?” Stiles shrugs and raises an eyebrow. “She’s a 17 year old girl, I guess they have sex dreams, too, right?”

“Well, maybe they do. But no, she said it isn’t like that, it’s not like just damp, it’s… she says she’s wet like there’s a lot and it’s not regular, she thinks it’s like a wet dream. Like a guy would have.” Scott’s brows are drawn together and he looks so serious when he leans over and says, “She thinks she might be presenting. She thinks she might be an alpha!”

Stiles tries to keep his face neutral, not sure yet what Scott thinks about this new development. “Have you looked? I mean, you guys have…?”

Scott looks scandalized and exclaims, “No! We’ve done some stuff, you know, kissing and rolling around. But she’s really worried her dad would find out if we, like, did it.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, hoping he doesn’t need to hear much more. So far, senior year has been filled with stories of how perfect Allison is, and how wonderful she smells, and how beautiful her breasts are. But it’s his best friend, and Stiles needs one right now. “Has she said if things look different?”

“She said she thinks she’s…getting bigger,” Scott says, looking concerned and slightly confused. “If she’s an alpha and I’m not an omega, her dad won’t let us see each other! He’s going to make her date someone else.”

“Yeah, well, that’s supposedly what happens, especially for a family as traditional as the Argents. I guess this is the time a person’ll present if they’re going to,” Stiles says, and looks around Scott’s room, which is as familiar to him as his own.

Scott sniffs the air, like the overgrown puppy he is. “Stiles, are you okay? You’re acting kind of strange. And you smell really nervous.”

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. Things are...things are weird for me, too, Scott. I’m also waking up kind of wet and sticky,” he says. He looks down at his hands, which look the same as always – something has to.

“That’s normal, isn’t it? I mean, sometimes I wake up and need to change the sheets. Not lately, not like the last couple of years, unless it’s one of those times with Allison  and…Oh. That’s not what you mean?”

“I don’t know, but probably not that. I think things are changing down there,” he says and glances down at his own crotch. “I mean, I can’t really tell for sure, there’s only so much that I can, like, feel. And I’ve tried looking in a mirror, but it’s kind of awkward.”

“But you think you’re presenting as an omega?” Scott asks. There’s only curiosity and concern in his voice, none of the judgement Stiles feels himself.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I mean I don’t think I look like the omega guys do in porn,” Stiles says and shrugs.

Scott gets an earnest look on his face and asks, “Do you want me to look? I don’t know if it’ll help, but maybe I’ll be able to see if your junk looks different.”

“Dude, you’d do that for me?” Stiles asks. “Really, you’re okay with that?”

“Dude, if I can help, sure!” Scott jumps off the bed and points at his friend. “Take off your pants!”

 

Stiles keeps his head down on the bed and tries to look at Scott standing behind him. “Well, what do you think?”

“I’m not sure,” Scott answers, tilting his head and moving closer between his friend’s legs. “Umm, can you move your legs apart a little more?”

Stiles repositions himself, spreading his legs more. He’s standing, bent over with his butt facing out. “It’s changed, isn’t it? It’s not like a beta is it?”

“Ehhhh… I don’t know, quite honestly, I haven’t seen a lot of naked beta dudes.” Scott leans back and scratches his head. “At least not this closely.”

“Well do I look like a male omega in porn?”

“How would I know? Why would I know what they look like?” Scott squeals, sounding insulted.

Stiles snorts and says, “Cause it’s porn! Omega porn, haven’t you ever watched omega porn?”

“No, sorry I’m so vanilla, but no, I’ve never seen omega porn.” He tilts his head and looks again and says, “Don’t be mad, but I can’t smell anything either. I mean, I thought omegas were supposed to smell terrific but…”

“Wow, looking is one thing, but the smelling thing is really intrusive. And I think omegas only smell good to alphas. And I don’t mean alpha werewolves.” Stiles puts his head down on the bed and sighs.

“Oh, I have an idea!” Scott exclaims, and pulls out phone, focuses between Stiles’ spread legs and takes two quick pictures. “Here, you’re the expert, mister porny, what do you think?”

Stiles take the phone and looks at the pictures. “I don’t know, it doesn’t look like porn, but it does look like it’s changed, there’s definitely what looks like a slit there, right?”

Scott leans forward and says, “I think it might be something like…”

There’s a knock on the bedroom door and it opens at the same time. “Scott, I’m going to do some laundry and it looks like you’re either hoarding your underwear or…. Oh. Oh excuse me,” she says and backs out the door slamming it behind her.

Stiles jumps up and pulls on his discarded underwear and jeans, hissing at Scott, “Oh shit, doesn’t your mom knock?”

“She’s still outside the door!” Scott whispers back and when Stiles is decent, he throws open the bedroom door. “Mom! Mom, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

Melissa is leaning against the wall, with a hand on her chest. She nods and plasters on what is certainly a fake smile. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I understand. I love you, Scott, and you too, Stiles. You boys have always been close, and I should have seen it earlier, but now that I know, I want you both to know that …”

“Mom, it’s not that! We’re not anything like that!” Scott takes her shoulder, trying to turn her so she’ll face only him. “Really, we’re friends only, that was just a friends thing.”

“I think I might be a little insulted, the way you’re talking like it's impossible,” Stiles says. “But there isn’t a romance, promise, Ms. McCall."

Scott shakes his head and says, “No, I promise Mom, no romance. It’s… Stiles thinks…”

“Scott!” Stiles exclaims and shakes his head. He looks at Scott’s mother, who looks at the two of them, worry starting to show on her face.

“Stiles? Is everything okay?” she asks, and sits on the edge of Scott’s bed. She taps the place next to her, clearly indicating he should sit.

He kicks his shoes and socks out of the way and sits, facing forward, which is easier than looking at her while he talks. “I don’t know for sure, but I think I’m presenting.”

She looks blank for a moment, until it clicks. “Oh. Oh, you’re presenting? Oh, well, that’s great, congratulations. It’s right around the right time for you, I was thinking if Scott doesn’t present, we’d be doing the blood tests in a few months, but if you’re presenting…”

“I don’t want it!” he says, shaking his head. “I just want to be a beta, just a regular, nothing special, do what you want beta.”

She takes another breath and says, “Well, it would need to be confirmed, of course, what you are. You think you’re an omega and that’s what you and Scott were doing?”

“Yeah, here look,” Scott says, handing his phone to his mother. “I took a picture for him ‘cause I couldn’t tell.”

“Scott! What are you doing, don’t give her that!” Stiles dives for the phone, but Melissa holds it away from him, pushing him gently with her other hand.

“Okay,” she says, looking at the picture, turning it on its side and back again. “Well, I’m not an omega specialist, but I think you should probably discuss this with your father and then a doctor. If you want, I’ll be there when you talk with your dad.”

Scott sits between his mother and Stiles. “I’ll be there, too, if you want me to be.”

“Thanks, both of you,” Stiles says, sighing. “I just…I just wasn’t expecting this, you know. Dad’s a beta, I thought I’d be a beta.”

“You know your mother was an omega; that’s pretty much the reason you’re here. Omegas don’t usually get pregnant by betas, but they can. And there’s nothing wrong with being an omega,” Melissa says softly, reaching over to rest a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“I know.” Stiles chews on a cuticle and says, “But it also means there’s jobs I won’t be able to get. I can’t be in law enforcement, which is pretty much all I’ve wanted to do.”

“You can still be in law enforcement; there’s things you can do. Maybe crime scene investigative stuff. I don’t know, and neither do you, not yet,” Melissa says, as she stands and faces both boys. Don’t start looking at the things you can’t do, or the doors that are closed to you. Things are a lot different than they were a hundred years ago. I mean look at me – I’m an ER nurse, that wouldn’t have happened before.”

“And the head of the ER? Isn’t he an alpha?” Stiles sneers.

“Yes, he is, and the head of surgery is an omega. And the hospital’s chief administrator is a beta. Your gender doesn’t matter, what you can do does. And you’ll find that applies in a lot of professions.” She sighs and rubs her forehead. “Okay, when does your father have a night off, and I’ll be with you to discuss it with him. And if you need me to, I’ll help you with doctor appointments or whatever you need.”

Stiles crosses his arms and looks down as he mutters, “Thanks, Ms. McCall. I think that’ll help.”

“No problem, Stiles, I know your father would help out Scott if he needed anything.” She stands and gets ready to go back to the laundry when she turns around and looks at Scott. “You deleted those pictures, didn’t you?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll do that now. Thanks, Mom!”

 

“So Stiles said we should talk. I hope everything’s okay. No new werewolves, are there?” Andrew says, settling into one of the chairs in the living room. He has a beer in front of him, and so does Melissa. Scott’s sipping on a bottle of water and Stiles has a coffee; Andrew tries not to think about what it’ll do to his sleep.

“No, nothing supernatural for once,” Melissa says, picking on the label of her bottle. “This is a totally natural discussion.” She looks over at Stiles and makes a face to try to encourage him to talk.

Stiles gives his head a minute shake and says, “Okay. Dad, I think, it might be, that maybe, I’m presenting. And I’m an omega.”

Andrew pauses for a second and then a huge smile is on his face while he says, “Wow, Stiles, congratulations! That’s terrific, son, I know your mom would be so happy. How do you feel?”

He shrugs and says, “Scared? Trying to be okay with it? Disappointed, too, maybe. It means I won’t be able to be a cop like I wanted.”

“That’s a minor thing, really,” Andrew says, smiling over at Melissa. “We can figure out something that works, it might not be exactly what you were thinking, but we’ll find a career that will work for you.”

“That’s what Mom was saying,” Scott says, nudging Stiles with an elbow. “See, your dad agrees!”

“Like I said, we’ll figure something out that will work.” Andrew nods to his son and says, “Okay, so next is… you have to get certified and register, right?”

“Yes. He can go online and find instructions on where he can go to get a certification exam. And they’ll help him with the registration.” Melissa looks over at Stiles, and quietly asks him, “Do you want to take suppressants? Have you given that any thought?”

“Oh god, yes! Please! I don’t think I want to start having heats and getting pregnant! I mean, not right away, I want to go to college and and and…”

Andrew puts a hand on Stiles’ back, rubbing circles to soothe him before he ends up giving himself a panic attack. “That’s great. It’s totally your choice, of course, but I think it’s a good idea. It’ll keep you comfortable until you’re older and want to choose an alpha to be with permanently.”

“Oh, he will need to register with an alpha,” Melissa says. “I mean technically, he can go without one, but he won’t be able to get suppressants without naming one.”

Stiles’ head jerks up and he exclaims, “What? Why? I thought taking suppressants was my decision and not something I need permission for!”

“True, you don’t need permission from the alpha. You just need to have one named. That’s the law,” his father says. “Even after your mother and I were married, she still had her father listed as her official alpha.”

“What does that mean? Did she need permission for things?” Stiles asks.

“Technically, he could have objected to our marrying; he could have insisted she marry an alpha. Of course, he didn’t, because he wanted what would make her happy,” his father smiles smugly and shrugs. “Stilinski men are pretty darned special, you know.”

“So it’s like a technicality, right?” Scott questions his mother. “Not a real big deal? Mom, who is your alpha?”

“Actually, it’s your grandmother McCall. I always liked her and trusted her and when your father and I divorced, she offered.” Melissa shrugs and says, “You know she adores you and so she wants to do whatever made things easiest for both of us. And if I ever fall in love with an alpha and want to marry again, she’s sign off on that person registering as my alpha.”

“Well how do I find an alpha? I don’t have an alpha relative, do I, Dad?”

“No,” Andrew says, sighing. “My father was an alpha, but with both my parents gone…”

“Great. And I need to pick an alpha so I can get suppressants, right? What else can they control? Shit, they can’t say that I have to live with them, can they? I’ll be able to live with Dad, right?” Stiles looks around the room and is close to hyperventilating again.

“Again, technically, your alpha could say that you have to live with them, but if they care about you, they’d want you to live where you want to. That’s one of the things in the omega protection laws that came out; omegas aren’t property of alphas and their wishes need to be taken into account,” Melissa studies both boys and raises an eyebrow. “I know there’s gender study classes, wasn’t any of this discussed?”

Scott nods and says, “It was, but… I don’t think we were listening that much, we were both pretty certain we’d be betas.”

“You both have one omega parent; what were you thinking?” Andrew shakes his head and says, “Okay, you’ll need a crash course and I’m sure we can get that, there’s lots of books out about being a modern omega. The doctor’s office probably has pamphlets or something for you when you get certified. That’s part what – three of this process?”

“Who do we know who is an alpha who would be a good person to register with you?” Melissa asks, looking at the group around the table. “There’s… well, how about Chris Argent? He’s an alpha and you know he’ll want to have you with your father.”

Scott shoots a look at Stiles, begging with his eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t think so. Chris’ father is still alive and frankly, I don’t want to be attached to that family at all,” Stiles says and the relief on Scott’s face is so obvious, Stiles thinks his mother must suspect something else. Thankfully, she doesn’t push it.

“Okay, who else? There’s Scott’s boss, Alan Deaton. How about him, I’m sure he’d be willing to let you register with him,” Melissa says, smiling brightly.

“No. No, thank you. I mean, if it were Scott, sure, but…I don’t think he really likes me,” Stiles says looking over at his father. “Besides, he kind of freaks me out. You know, what with the drowning and all.”

“Alright then,” she looks over at Andrew and asks, “Who do you know? Anyone at your office?”

Andrew scratches his chin and looks off past their heads. “Yeah, there’s a couple of alphas at work. It might be kind of weird, though – someone who is my son’s alpha and reporting to me. Favoritism questions might come up. We’ll figure out a way around it, if it’s needed, but…”

“No, I don’t want to put you in that position, Dad,” Stiles says, reaching over to pat his father’s hand. “There’s got to be other options. How about anyone at the hospital?”

Melissa raises an eyebrow and says, “There’s certainly a few doctors and nurses there, not a lot that I’m really close with. Ones that don’t necessarily know you at all…”

“What about Derek?” Scott interjects. “He’s an alpha. In all meanings of the word! And you’re in his pack, I bet he’d agree.”

“Derek Hale?” Andrew asks, voice dripping skepticism. “The werewolf who’s nearly gotten you killed more than once?”

“And he’s saved you more than once, and you’ve saved him, so I’m sure he’d agree to it!” Scott crows, as though it’s a great suggestion.

“Do I want to know about mutual life savings?” Andrew asks Stiles.

Stiles shrugs and says, “Initially, things were a little challenging. It’s better now, I promise.”

“Then what about him? If he’s your pack’s alpha, does that mean he might be good as the alpha to you as an omega?” Andrew asks.

Stiles thinks it over and shrugs. “Well, he sure as hell won’t want me to live with him, that’s for sure. And I can’t imagine he’d try to steer me into one profession over another.”

“He’d be like the most hands-off alpha ever,” Scott says, nodding. “And he’d agree, I know it. You’re pack. I know he’s registered as Cora’s alpha and she lives in frigging South America.”

“Anyone have a better idea?” Melissa asks.

They look at each other and Andrew says, “Okay, so I guess next step is we talk with Derek Hale about being your alpha.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes to the doctor for his gender exam. And then they go to talk to Derek about being his alpha.

“Okay, so Derek chooses _now_ to go out of town? Derek never goes out of town, what would he do? Can you picture him on the beach, do you think he’s surfing? Is it he at the Winchester Mystery House?”

“Stiles, calm down,” Andrew says, watching his son pace back and forth in front of him. “It’s fine, there’s other things to do. We could get your doctor appointment so you’re certified and then when he’s back, all we need to do is to get you registered.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, I can do that. That’s not hard, there’s a website and you put in for an appointment and – I can do that,” Stiles says as he drops into a chair at the dining room table.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Andrew asks, watching as Stiles as he slams keys on his laptop.

Stiles looks up and sits quietly for a moment, biting his lips. “No. No, I can do this, it’s okay. I’ll just go to a doctor who’ll say ‘Yup, that’s a brand new vagina you’re growing there!’ Piece of cake, right?”

Andrew smiles and shrugs, saying, “In the grand scheme of things, it is actually. It’s a normal part of adulthood. We got through being kidnapped by a crazy old man and then being attacked by some power hungry druid woman. Or I should say, you got through most of it; I would have been dead without you on the second one.” He looks at Stiles, knowing he’s listening, even if he’s pretending not to. “You’re an amazingly strong young man, and I’m thinking this bit – won’t faze you at all.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Stiles says, smiling down at the screen as he clicks a few more times. What his dad says -- it helps. “Okay, that’s one thing done.”

 

The doctor’s office is clean and bright and looks like a normal office. Probably because it is a normal doctor’s office and the doctor sees everyday patients for everyday ailments. He just also happens to be legally licensed to certify gender status in preparation for State registration.

Omegas and alphas need to be certified with an exam. Betas end up being certified based on blood tests, when they don’t “present” the way omegas and alphas do. It is, as his father said, all very normal, as common as taking your child in for their routine vaccines. If not slightly more intrusive.

Stiles sits on the doctor’s table, trying to make the paper gown fit more comfortably, or at least cover a bit more. The room’s warm, comfortable for someone wearing only a pair of socks and a bit of paper.

There’s a knock on the door and then the doctor enters, saying a quick “Good morning, I’m Dr. Jessup. You prefer to be called…”

“Stiles. Stiles is fine, thank you.”

“Nice to meet you, Stiles,” the doctor says, shaking his hand. He sits in front of a keyboard and enters a few codes, swiping the card that’s attached to his chest by a cord. “You’re here for your certification, right?  That’s pretty easy and painless. You haven’t had any pains or anything, have you?”

“No, nothing like that,” Stiles says and fidgets more on the table, wrinkling the paper wrap underneath him. “Just… saw there’s something different and…” he blows out a breath and shrugs. “Time to come in, right?”

“That’s the way it usually works,” Dr. Jessup says, washing his hands in a tiny sink in the corner and pulling on a pair on disposable gloves. “Best to come in as soon as you can before there’s secondary characteristics and things get away from you.” Dr. Jessup opens up the table more and pulls out what looks like foot rests next to Stiles.

 _Stirrups_ , his mind supplies. _Oh shit, those are stirrups_. “Yeah, well, I want suppressants and so this is how to get them, right?”

“That’s right,” Dr. Jessup says and then asks, “Do you want a nurse to come in? It’s up to you, whatever makes you more comfortable.” When Stiles shakes his head, Dr. Jessup says, “Okay, just lie back on the table, put your feet in the stirrups and scoot towards me. Little more…little more.”

Stiles tries taking deep breaths, concentrating on the poster of a sleeping kitten taped to the ceiling, and gets into position until Dr. Jessup nods. The kitten says ‘RELAX’ and Stiles is trying.

“Okay, you’re doing great. Great job, just take another breath or two,” he says, sitting on a small stool in between Stiles’ legs. “Gonna have to ask you to relax your knees a little more. Just let them fall open, that’s good, just like that.”

He tells Stiles everything that’s going to happen, tells him when he’s going to touch him and where. His hands are warm and he warms his equipment and the jelly before he uses them. Overall, it’s a fast enough exam, professional without being too clinical. Dr. Jessup asks a few questions, easy things about school and the upcoming baseball season, nothing too stressful.

“Okay, that’s it,” he says, pushing back on his stool, while peeling off his gloves. “Everything looks good; why don’t you get dressed and I’ll be back in about five minutes and we’ll talk about next steps. Better to talk with clothes on, right?”

“Sure,” Stiles says, sitting up and pulling the paper robe around him again. He can’t wait for the doctor to leave so he can clean up and put his clothes back on. _‘Relax’ my ass_ , he thinks.

 

It’s closer to ten minutes before the doctor is back, and that’s fine. Stiles is dressed, he’s finger-combed his hair and he’s sitting on a regular chair, fidgeting while waiting when the doctor returns.

He comes in and sits, computer back in front of him. “Okay, Stiles, so you’re definitely presenting, it’s not complete yet, which is good.  You said you want heat suppressants, right?”

“Yes. Absolutely. I’m going to college in the fall and I don’t want… Well any of this, actually,” Stiles says, trying not to shout over the noise of his heart pounding in his ears.

“Great. You have an alpha to register with?”

Stiles scratches his head and says, “Not quite, this is kind of sudden and I need to talk with him. But I will in a few days – I mean I’ll have the commitment and then I guess there’s paperwork…”

This doesn’t seem to faze the doctor, who keeps typing on his laptop. “Um hm, we can do the paperwork here or you can go to City Hall, that would work. So I can get a prescription in for the suppressants and for birth control pills as well. You’ll want to take both, as a just-in-case and they’ll also help regulate your menstrual cycle.”

“My what?” Stiles asks, feeling the color rise in his face.

“Your menstrual cycle. You’re not fully developed yet, but that should happen in a few months. Then you’ll have your monthly menstrual period. And if you weren’t on suppressants, you’d have your first heat about six or seven months after your periods start. And your heats will be every six or seven months.” He looks up and sees Stiles’ wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. Dr. Jessup sighs and says, “Did you not get this information in health classes at school? Or did you just not pay attention?”

“I didn’t think it would apply to me! I expected to be a beta!”

He sighs again and says, “I’ve got some materials for you and can recommend some websites with good, accurate information. The internet is good for education, but you have to be sure you’re using legitimate sites. Anyway, it’ll take a couple of years for your cycles to stabilize, but then you’ll find it’s all pretty routine. What questions do you have?”

Stiles sits back and scrubs his hands over his face. “But I start the pills now and then I don’t have heats?”

The doctor seems to think for a minute, shaking his head back and forth. “You’ll know when it’s time for your heat, you’ll probably feel anxious a few days before hand and you’ll have more lubrication; that’s all very normal. But you won’t have an actual heat when you take the suppressants. You need to take those every single day. If you miss one day, you’ll probably be okay, but if you skip two days, you’ll likely have a heat, especially at the beginning. Three days, you’ll absolutely trigger a heat. Someplace between two and five days is normal for heats, so if you intend to take the suppressants, you need to make sure it’s every single day.”

Stiles nods and says, “Sure. I take Adderall for ADHD; that’s not a problem with these, is it?”

“Nope, they’ll be fine. Just be sure you take them…”

“Every day,” Stiles says, nodding. “What else?”

“Well, it is something new, having a vagina. You should get to know it so that when you’re ready to have sex, you know what feels good to you.” Dr. Jessup types while he says this, which is probably intentional to avoid seeing his patient blush again.

“Um, okay, I can do that. I’m not going to hurt myself?” Stiles asks.

“Certainly don’t be rough with yourself. I’d suggest no penetrative sex toys until after everything’s fully developed and you’ve had at least one menstrual period. But basically, use lots of lube and if it doesn’t hurt, you haven’t hurt yourself,” he answer and shrugs. “I’m guessing you masturbate now?”

“All. The. Time,” Stiles answers, nodding. “But I know what I’m dealing with now.”

Dr. Jessup smiles and says, “Let me get you that reading material. As I said, there’s information on videos that will help you become more familiar with your body. Some people might consider some of the information to be porn, but I think it’s important you learn about yourself. You know, Stiles, about seventy percent of the population are betas and they rarely can get pregnant. We omegas are important, both because of how easily we can get pregnant and because we help stabilize the alpha population. It’s important that we’re happy. It’s important that you enjoy your body and that _you’re_ happy, Stiles.”

“Wow, okay. You’re an omega, too?”

Dr. Jessup nods and says, “I sure am. It’s not the world from a hundred years ago, Stiles. There’s a few limits still, but generally, we have a lot of freedom and can do what we want. People finally realized that it’s not the best idea to piss off the people who populate the world and raise the children.” He stands and goes towards the door saying, “Let me get you that information you’ll want to read.”

“Okay, thanks,” Stiles says. For the first time since this started, he’s feeling a little optimistic. “Do I need to come back or anything?”

Dr. Jessup pats him on the shoulder as he leaves the room. “I’d like to see you after your first period or six months from now if that hasn’t happened. It’s going to be okay, Stiles.”

 

Team Omega, as Stiles thinks of them, are sitting around Derek’s living room this time. His father, because of course his father. Scott, offering his wolfie support and hopefully able to connect with Derek that way. And Melissa, who might be the only person more intimidating than his father. Seriously, who could say ‘no’ to Melissa when she gives that judgmental mom face?

Derek said it was okay for Stiles to come over for a serious talk, but the look on his face seems to say he didn’t expect everyone. But he’s pretending to be a tough alpha werewolf (and an alpha gendered werewolf) so the look of confusion on his face is quickly replaced by his usual annoyance.

And Stiles has to admit he’s slightly annoyed, too. Peter was not invited to this discussion, but there he is, stupid smug smile on his face as he sits in his usual spot on the staircase.

No one else is complaining and since Stiles needs Derek’s good graces (and a signature or two), he’ll roll with it. It’s not like this is going to stay a secret among the pack anyway.

“So you need to talk?” Derek asks, looking around the room, sipping on a cup of coffee. He’s a horrible host, of course, so the first thing Stiles did upon arrival was make a pot.

“Yeah. Yes,” Stiles says, taking a breath. He hates asking for favors and he’s not sure how welcome this one will be. “Okay, so here’s the thing. I’m an omega, or I’m going to be soon. And I need to have an alpha for registration purposes. And since you’re an alpha, then maybe…” He smiles as sweetly as possible and hopes Derek can fill in the blank.

Derek looks at him and the others in his living room and says, “Me? Why me?”

“I’m a beta,” Andrew says. “Stiles doesn’t have other relatives who are alphas. And we thought…”

Scott jumps in, puppy eyes going full force. “You’re our pack’s alpha and you happen to _be_ an alpha. And Stiles _is_ pack and needs help, so…” He’s so good, Stiles would gladly give him a kidney.

“Yeah, I see,” Derek answers, rubbing his eye. “What do I need to do?”

Before Stiles can answer, Peter joins the group, saying, “Let’s just talk a bit more, eh? It is a big deal to agree to be someone’s alpha. It’s more than signing a piece of paper, Derek.”

“No one expects Derek to be Stiles’ mate, just to sign so he can get his heat suppressants,” Melissa says calmly. “He’s already got the certification papers in order and his prescription is ready for him as soon as he’s got the alpha registration done.”

“He’ll continue to live with his father, right?” Peter asks. “Derek isn’t expected to house him?”

“Of course not!” Andrew says, looking at the two Hales in front of him. “That’s one of the reasons we thought of Derek. He’d probably want the least disruption to Stiles’ life. Literally, he’ll be a name in a computer registry and that’s it.”

“He’s pack,” Derek says to Peter with a shrug. “We both knew this was coming.”

“You both knew what?” Stiles asks, leaning forward, feeling a blush start.

“Your scent’s been changing for the last couple of months,” Peter answers matter-of-factly. “While our family has a lot of alphas, we also have a few omegas, of course, and recognized the scent.”

Stiles’ jaw drops and he shouts, “Well you coulda said something!”

“I think we thought you knew,” Derek says with his eyebrow agreeing. “It is your body after all. We all know you’re pretty familiar with it.”

“Okay, so Stiles is pack and you’ve had omegas in your pack before so you’ll do this?” Melissa asks, getting everyone back on track.

“It is a bit more than just being a name in a registry,” Peter says, sitting on the arm of the couch by Derek. “Have you read everything in the requirements and obligations for an alpha?”

Andrew shakes his head and says, “I’ll have the requirements and obligations, he’s my son.”

“That’s reassuring, certainly, Sheriff, but what you’re asking Derek to sign up for, legally means he’s taking responsibility.” Peter crosses his arms over his chest and says, “If he qualifies for college and can’t pay, the alpha pays. If he ends up unemployed, the alpha supports him.” He continues to count on his fingers, saying, “If he ends up pregnant and doesn’t want to raise the baby for some reason, the alpha agrees to.”

Stiles mimics him, arms crossed. “None of those are going to happen. I’m planning on going to college and have some grants and student loans and stuff. And I’ll be taking suppressants, so no heats and no babies.”

“And birth control, too? Just because you don’t have a heat, doesn’t mean you can’t have sex and get pregnant. It’s not common to get pregnant outside a heat, but if someone will find a way, it would be you,” Peter says, grinning. “Besides, it’ll help regulate your periods, you’ll want that as well.”

“Oh. My. God. Can we not discuss my menstrual cycle right now? Please? We’re talking about Derek agreeing to be my alpha,” Stiles exclaims, covering his eyes, knowing that Scott’s looking at him, half fascinated and half shocked.

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed, Stiles. People with a uterus have a menstrual period; it’s a natural part of adult life.” Peter would almost be believable, if it weren’t for the slight smirk on his face.

“Great, thanks, I know that.” He points a finger at Derek and says, “So Derek. Alpha me?”

Derek looks back and forth between Peter and Stiles and finally says, “Tell you what. We’ll look at the information on the website and the contract and figure out if there’s questions or things to be discussed and get back to you.”

“Thank you, Derek,” Melissa says, “We’re not trying to pressure you, obviously, but Stiles can’t get his prescriptions until he’s got…”

Derek nods and says, “Right. Until he’s registered. We’ll get back to you in a day or so.”

“But please, Stiles, don’t worry too much in the meantime,” Peter says, with his hand gently on the back of Stiles’ neck as they show their guests to the door. “As you said, you’re pack and we take care of our own.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's up as the almost ideal alpha for Stiles. And it's time to do the official registry.

True to his word, Derek texts two days later, telling Stiles to come over. Of course, it’s a Derek-typical text, and says nothing more than ‘Be here tonight at 8.’ Luckily his Dad is free and Melissa says she can work a later shift to go with them. And of course Scott will be there, because he’s the best friend ever.

“Thanks for getting back on this so quickly,” Andrew says as they settle back in the living room. “Stiles had his doctor exam and he’s ready to register with an alpha.”

“’Cause that’s how I get my prescriptions, like we talked about,” Stiles says to Derek. “Get registered, get the drugs and we’re both on our separate way. Other than pack stuff, of course.”

Peter sits next to Derek on the couch, fingers steepled in front of him. “There is a slight glitch that we’ve discussed. It’s about the pack, actually.” He glances over to Derek, who says nothing, just looks over their heads, with a constipated look on his face.  Peter sighs and says, “Okay, I’ll start. Derek’s concerned that since he’s your wolf alpha, that there’d be a problem being alpha to your omega.”

“What? What does one have to do with the other?” Scott asks, leaning towards Derek, flashing his golden eyes.

Derek shakes his head and says, “I’m your alpha, the pack’s alpha. I need to know that everyone in my pack is working to their full potential, doing the things they do best. With Stiles, unfortunately, that includes challenging me, making me relook at my decisions.”

“Yeah, you have some dumb ideas sometimes,” Stiles says, shrugging. “What does that have to do with signing the damn registration papers?”

“I need you to challenge me, to be able to do that. If I’m your omega’s alpha, you won’t be able to. If I give you an order, you’re going to follow it. That’s just biology, Stiles,” Derek says, sighing. “You’ll be inclined to follow any alpha’s command, but if it’s _your_ alpha – you wouldn’t be able to not obey.”

“Shit. You’re kidding me, is that true?” he turns and asks Melissa. She won’t meet his eyes and just shrugs slightly. “Biology? This is omega biology? See, this is why I hate this stuff!”

“And in the same way, you’ll be able to calm down alphas. All the relaxing pheromones you’ll exude will calm down any alpha and especially your own,” Peter says. “It’s a trade-off. But it might not be good if you’re doing it to your pack alpha.”

“My own alpha, like the one I’m registered with? It’s just names in a computer,” Stiles answers, throwing his hands in the air. “I don’t know why that would have anything to do with anything and I don’t understand why Derek says he won’t help me!”

“We have a solution, Stiles. Like I said, we don’t abandon pack. You need an alpha and we have one,” Derek says. He looks at Peter who grins, mouth full of shiny white teeth.

“Alphas run in our family, Stiles. So since Derek can’t be your registered alpha, I’m willing to do it. Oh, and you’re welcome,” Peter says smugly. “And don’t worry about creating the bond; intimacy doesn’t need to be sexual. The bond is built, at least initially for all pairs, from trust and respect. I think we have that.”

Andrew holds up a hand. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. I was willing to go with cleared-of-murder Derek, but now we’re changing to actual crazed killer Peter? I don’t know if that’s a great idea. In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s a bad idea.”

“Former crazed killer. Emphasis on both former and crazed, Sheriff. And of course, Stiles doesn’t need to accept. I think your Coach Finstock is an alpha, isn’t he?” Peter asks with a smirk.

“Finstock? The guy who wants to be called Cupcake? I don’t see that happening,” Andrew says, checking with Stiles who shakes his head.

Peter leans against the window, looking outside. “We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight!” He chuckles and says, “If you’re sure that won’t work, I’m fairly certain Adrian Harris is an alpha.”

“No,” Stiles says, shaking his head, harder this time. “No, that guy tries to pretend he’s normal, but he’s a sociopath. At least Peter’s up front about it.”

“Thanks, I think,” Peter says, and looks up at the ceiling as though deep in thought. “There’s Christopher Argent. I’d think you would have thought of him before Derek.”

Scott and Stiles exchange a look and Stiles shakes his head again. “No, I don’t think that would work.”

“Well, it might be uncomfortable, what with little Allison becoming an alpha herself.  All those teenage hormones…” Peter shakes his head and crosses his arms. “So, what are your options again?”

Before anyone else can make a snide comment or ask about Allison, Derek says, “You know I’m not Peter’s number one fan, so believe me when I say I think this is a good option for Stiles. He’d be a good alpha for Stiles. And I’m here and I’ll be able to check on them both.”

“It’s totally up to you, and no loss to me, but I _would_ be a good alpha for you, Stiles. No ulterior motive, this is just something I’ll do for a pack member in need,” Peter says quietly. He looks sincere and not-at-all homicidal.

“Is he lying?” Stiles asks Scott.

Scott stares at Peter and says, “No. But then again, he’s probably a really good liar.”

Before anyone can say anything else, Peter jumps in, “I like you Scott. I really do.”

“Now he’s lying,” Scott says, and Derek nods. “It still doesn’t mean you weren’t lying before.”

Peter sighs and rolls his eyes. “Then you all figure it out. This is our offer. I hope you’ll accept me, Stiles.”

Stiles looks at his father and at his best friend. Then at Melissa, who isn’t quite a substitute mom, but she’s been there for him. He looks at Derek, who almost looks unconcerned, except for the slight tension between his eyebrows.

Peter looks completely blasé, as though this has nothing to do with him. But Stiles knows from their time together how important pack is to him.

He nods and says, “Yes, I accept, Peter. Yes, I’d appreciate it if you could register as my alpha.”

 

Peter picks him up a few days later, leaving plenty of time to get to their appointment at the court house. 

“I could have just met you there,” Stiles says, looking out the car window while Peter drives.

“No point in us both driving,” Peter answers. He seems relaxed, with the windows rolled down and his arm out the window. The radio’s playing some song he doesn’t know, but Peter’s quietly singing along to the chorus.

“Your car’s nice,” Stiles says, for something to say.

“Thank you. And it doesn’t smell like dead troll.”

Stiles snorts and shrugs. “Now we know, don’t hit a troll with your car. I took it through the car wash twice and Lysol’d the interior. You can still smell it?”

“It’s fading. I just thought my car would be more pleasant. Not quite saturated in scents yet,” Peter says, giving Stiles what might be a meaningful grin.

It makes him turn away with a huff, looking out the window again.

“You’re upset; it isn’t hard to tell that at all. Tell me what’s wrong, was it just because I insulted your jeep?” Peter asks.

“No, it’s because of all of this. I hate this omega thing, having to register, like I’m your dog or something. I feel like I have an owner. I hate it,” Stiles says, saying it out loud for the first time.

Peter drives silently for a few minutes, bringing them closer to their appointment. “I don’t think Cora feels that way. She’s registered with Derek as her alpha, I doubt she feels like his dog or like he’s her owner.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’s different with werewolves; they’re already pack and he’s her pack alpha, so he’s already like her boss or something,” Stiles says, twisting in his seat so he can look at Peter who sits straight, eyes on the road.

“Perhaps,” he answers. “And of course, my mother was an omega. I never heard her complain or talk about being unhappy. My father…he could be a difficult, but I think we all saw that they adored each other.”

“Hmm, maybe it’s different if you’re with your mate. I just feel…  I’m sorry, Peter, but I can’t feel good about doing this.”

Peter sighs and pulls into the parking lot. He shuts off the car and turns to Stiles. “I’m sorry you feel this way, I’ll try to be sure that you’re as comfortable as you can be. And I think I said, when you find the person you want to be with, alpha, beta or omega, of course, you can register with a new alpha.”

“Thanks, Peter. I know you’re being helpful, it’s just…I hate needing the help,” Stiles replies and moves to get out of the car. “Come on, let’s go do the thing.”

 

Peter signs in at the registration counter, flashing a charming smile to the woman behind the desk.

“Sit down,” he says to Stiles. “They’re running a few minutes late.” Stiles sits and fidgets until Peter reaches over and pulls Stiles’ phone out of his shirt pocket. “Here, play a game or something.”

Stiles plays with his phone for a couple of minutes and then puts it back in his pocket with a loud sigh. “I hate the waiting.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Peter says quietly, leaning closer to Stiles to whisper in his ear. “A few years ago, I offered you the bite. I would have been your alpha and you said no. I needed to have you as a beta, to be in my pack. To make me stronger and to make me sane.” He leans back and smiles at Stiles. “And now, you need me to be your alpha. A different kind of alpha, yes, but still. It’s a form of pack, and will make us both stronger and ultimately saner. You said no and yet I still said yes.”

Stiles looks at him and his voice is icy when he says, “Yes. So interesting.”

“Maybe not interesting. Ironic? You turned me down and then came to me for essentially the same thing.” He nods, checking his watch and says, “Yes, ironic.”

“It’s not the same thing at all,” Stiles hisses. “That was having a crazy person turn me into a monster and this is something beyond my control and….”

“Mr. Hale?” They’re interrupted by a tall, smiling woman in a dark suit who comes forward ready to shake hands with Peter. “Nice to meet you, I’m Beth Parker. Thanks for your patience and follow me, please.”

She leads them into a small office, gesturing for them to sit in chairs in front of her desk, while she sits facing a computer.

“Thanks for coming in, and again, sorry for the wait. Our Humboldt office had a water main break and they’re closed and we’re all trying to take their clients,” she says as she starts keying rapidly, glancing at a file next to her. “It looks like you have everything here. We have your certification papers in…Meese-slaw?”

“Mieczyslaw,” Peter says, pronouncing it perfectly. “He goes by Stiles, though.”

“Okay, Stiles, nice to meet you, too.” Ms. Parker doesn’t offer to shake his hand, probably one of those things where alphas don’t touch omegas unless they’re “theirs.” As in one of those things Stiles knows he’s going to hate.

“It looks like we have everything,” she continue, typing furiously. “Mr. Hale, it looks like you’re already registered with…” She pauses and gives him a small nod, “My condolences.  So are you two related?”

“No, our families have been friends for a while,” Peter answers. There’s only a slight flash of irritation from her comment, but Stiles has come to expect that. “We’ve known the Sheriff’s family forever.”

Ms. Parker looks up at Stiles and back at her screen and finally smiles a genuine smile. “Of course, the Sheriff. I knew I knew the name, I just couldn’t place it. Will Stiles continue living with his father?”

“Yes. Until he goes to college in the fall,” Peter says, smiling at Stiles, as though they’ve discussed all the details of his life.

“Good,” she says, keying a bit more. “Almost done.” She ends with a flourish, using an index finger to presumably hit the enter key.

“That’s it?” Stiles asks, looking between them. “I didn’t expect it to be that easy.”

“Just about,” Ms. Parker says. She presses a button on her phone and looks at the door, and in just a few seconds, there’s a knock. “Come on in,” she says and stands. “Stiles, how about you come with me and we’ll get you set for a quick interview down the hall?”

“Umm… okay?” he says, glancing at Peter while the man who just entered takes Ms. Parker’s chair.

“See you in a few minutes,” Peter says, and brushes his hand on Stiles’ arm. Stiles hates that he finds it comforting, but this is a weird and official place.

Ms. Parker takes him down the hall and shows him to another small room that mirrors the one he was just in. As Stiles gets comfortable, a man who looks not much older than he is comes in and sits behind the desk.

“Hi, Stiles, I’m Darren Baxter, I’m a social worker who works for the government’s Omega Protection Department. I’m just going to ask you a couple of questions, okay?”

“Sure,” Stiles answers, trying not to wiggle too much in his chair. Just a little more and this will be done and then he can get on with the rest of the to-do list from how to become an omega.

“Great.” Darren looks at the screen in front of him and says, “Your alpha, Mr. Hale, is a family friend?”

Stiles nods and says, “Yeah. We’ve known him for a few years.” Not a lie.

“And you chose him willingly? You weren’t coerced? Or paid?”

“Willingly? I’m not doing any of this willingly, I don’t want to be certified or registered or have my life turned around and be told what I can and cannot do because of what’s between my legs,” Stiles hisses. Then he deflates and sits back in his chair. “No. No I was not coerced or paid to choose Peter as my alpha. Yes, I’ve known him for a few years and my father knows him. He has other family members and we trust them and trust Peter. Okay?”

Darren sits and looks at him until Stiles shifts in his seat. “It’s not uncommon to feel worried or angry when such a big change happens in your life. There are people you can talk with about this, to help you adjust. I can give you some names if you’d like.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t know I was going to be questioned like this,” Stiles says, squinting and hoping he looks threatening.

“We just want to be sure you’re not being pressured by your alpha and you feel safe,” Darren says, clicking a few more keys. “Do you, Stiles? Do you feel safe with Peter as your alpha?”

Stiles doesn’t think for more than a few seconds before he says, “Yes, I’m safe with Peter. I trust him and he won’t hurt me. We bicker, but that’s because we’re both kinda assholes. But I’m safe with him.”

“Okay, that’s all I wanted to know,” Darren says. He smiles and keys in a few more things and then turns to a printer behind him. He hands Stiles a sheet of paper and moves to the door. “That’s a list of counselors you might want to talk to. No pressure, and it’s not required, but if you need someone to listen, they’re all good. Now let’s get you out of here.”

 

Peter and Ms. Parker are in the office chuckling about something or other when Darren brings Stiles back to them.

“Okay, that’s everything. You’re just about done.” She hands Stiles a few printed pages and says, “I’m sure you’re read through these already, Peter says you’re very aware of what’s in them. We just need your signature on page four.”

Stiles goes to that page and looks at Peter’s signature there. Peter F. Hale. He briefly wonders what his middle name is and goes back to scan through the contract.

Peter is responsible for his housing.

Peter is responsible for his medical care, including any medication or care during pregnancy.

Peter is responsible to pay for any education he wants.

Peter is responsible for his expenses if he’s over 22 and unemployed.

Peter is responsible if Stiles is arrested for any reason.

Peter is responsible to care for any children Stiles has that Stiles doesn’t want to care for.

 

Stiles has no obligations to go through his heats or to spend any heats with Peter.

If it weren’t for the fact that Stiles hates this whole idea, he’d almost think the contract was unfair to Peter. But then again, he didn’t ask for this and he’s the one who has to make all kinds of adjustments. He takes a breath and signs, pushing the pages back to Ms. Parker. “Okay, signed.”

“Then that’s it, congratulations, you’re officially registered. Are you doing something to celebrate?”

Peter smiles at her and then at Stiles and Stiles thinks if she knew him and that smile, she’d be terrified. “Well, if we go to lunch, it certainly won’t be in Humboldt.”

She doesn’t know him, so she beams and laughs. “Oh, I think you’ll be okay, just stay away from city hall! Peter, I’ll mail the copies to you in a few days after everything’s filed. Nice to meet you both and good luck,” she says and like that everything’s done.

 

Peter pulls out of the parking lot and says, “Are you hungry? I’ll treat for lunch, since you’ve been so good.”

Stiles snorts and says, “Yeah, I guess I can eat. Hey, what were you guys talking about when I left?  Did you talk with Ms. Parker?”

“No, someone else came in, a social worker; I’ve forgotten her name. She just wanted to be sure that you weren’t using your super omega powers to influence me,” Peter answers, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“No way! That’s kind of the same thing I got asked. Were you pushing me and do I feel safe with you and that stuff. Damn, that’s so weird.” Stiles slumps in his seat, staring out the window.

“Why are you annoyed by that? I think it’s rather nice they at least pretend to look out for both our welfares.” He shrugs and continues, “I mean I’m not sure that people who do feel pressured wouldn’t lie, but still, it’s something.”

“Yeah. I guess you must have said you’re okay with this,” Stiles says, glancing over at Peter.

“I’m more than okay with it, Stiles,” Peter says as he pulls up to a popular diner. “I think we’re both going to have a lot of fun.”

“Your idea of fun is warped. Buy me lunch, you need to make sure I’m taken care of,” Stiles says, grabbing a menu to look for the most expensive items as they walk to a booth.

Peter takes a menu and hums quietly. “I’ll always take care of you. You have my word on it.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coach and Stiles talk and Stiles tries a new sport. Then he gets his first period. Peter's helpful.

“Stilinski! In my office, now!” Coach yells into the locker room about a week after he and Peter signed their official paperwork.

“Yes, Coach,” Stiles says, glancing over at Scott to see if he knows what’s going on.

Scott just shrugs and continues putting his pads on, while listening to Isaac talking about his latest overdue essay for Modern English Literature.

Coach sticks his head out of the office again to yell, “McCall! Act like you’re actually the captain and get everyone going with practice! I’ll be out in a few minutes!”

“Yes, Coach! Absolutely, Coach!” Scott yells back and gives Stiles a smile and another shrug before he turns and runs out onto the field.

 

“Sit down, Stilinski,” Coach says, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. His “office” at the edge of the locker room is little more than a closet, big enough for a desk and chair and not much else.

Stiles sits and tries not to be too nervous. Two of their players are out on injuries, so he’s pretty sure he’s got a chance to play on Friday night’s game. “What’s up, Coach?”

Coach sighs and sits back in his chair, studying Stiles. There’s a file open on his desk and he glances at it, slamming it closed when he says, “Just so you know, you turned out to not suck completely. You aren’t the absolute worst lacrosse player on the team.”

“Gee, thanks. I guess,” Stiles says. “I’ve had a few good games, yeah. Thanks?”

“Yeah, you have. And thank you for being on the team, I appreciate your commitment and… um… willingness to…” Coach stumbles and finally throws up his hands, and says, “So congratulations on your omega status, and thanks for playing. And of course, you’ll have to resign from the team now.”

“Wha… I don’t understand, why? Why would I quit the team?” It’s Coach, so there’s always a good chance that he’s wrong.

Coach shakes his head and leans forward, and Stiles can see there’s concern on his face. “Stiles, of course you need to quit. Lacrosse is one of the sports that an omega isn’t allowed to play. You could be injured. And with the way you play, you _will be_ injured.  There’s other stuff you can do.”

“Like what? What sports am I _allowed_ to play?” he practically snarls.

“Um…” Coach looks down at his file and says, “Swimming! Track! Track would be good for you, you can run, you run during lacrosse. And I don’t think you’ve injured yourself running, have you? Much?”

Stiles heaves a sigh and says, “What can’t I do? What other sports can’t I play?”

“Right, concentrate on the negative.” Coach scratches the back of his neck and looks at the file in front of him again. “Umm… basically it’s contact sports, things where you could get hurt. Basketball, football, lacrosse…”

“Hockey? Can I play hockey?” Stiles asks.

Coach looks at him, puzzlement turning to annoyance. “Hockey? No, you can’t play hockey, omegas can’t play hockey. It’s too dangerous. We don’t even have a hockey team, why why why…”

“I don’t want to play hockey anyway.” Stiles sits and looks at Coach until the older man actually flinches.

“Look, I’m just telling you what the laws say,” Coach says, sighing himself. “I would love to keep you on the team, as I said, you’re not horrible. But the law says I can’t. And frankly, Stiles, I have a wife who’s an omega and I can’t imagine her playing a sport that would put her in danger. I agree with the law here, it’s for your own protection. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

He stands, carding a hand through his hair. “I did this while the team is practicing so you can clear out your locker of your personal stuff. Just leave the equipment inside and I’ll get it later.”

Stiles nods and stands, waiting a few seconds for his knees to feel steady. He tries to keep his emotions off his face, knowing that’s always been a weakness for him.

“Again, Stiles, thanks for your help and congratulations.” Coach holds out his hand to shake and then quickly pulls back, apparently remembering alphas don’t touch omegas.

Stiles nods and quietly says, “Thanks, Coach. See you around.” He tries to storm out of the office, moving quickly to get out of the way, willing himself not to tear up, not in front of Coach, not in front of anyone who’s still around. It’s anger, stuck in his throat and stuck in his chest that someone else gets to decide what’s good for him. That should be up to his dad and something he can rail against, but the omega laws overrides even parental rights.

“Stiles!” Coach yells from his office. “Rhythmic gymnastics! You can do that, if you want. Although why you’d want to…”

Stiles just raises his hand, keeping his back to the coach. He’ll clean out his locker of the few personal things there and be gone before the team comes back in from practice.  

“Run, Stiles, run!” Coach yells after him. He turns and yells, “Did you see what I did there? Did you get the… Greenburg, what are you doing here, why are you here and not on the field. Why are you here and not Stilinski, he’s twice the player you are. Get out!”

 

By the next day, thanks to Greenburg, everyone knows that Stiles is off the team and it doesn’t take much work for people to guess why.

“Fucking Greenburg,” Stiles mutters as he walks into the cafeteria, moving towards his group’s table. The rest of the room goes silent when he enters and then quickly there’s whispers and a smattering of laughter from various places. Normal biology aside, this is still high school and high schoolers are generally ass-wipes.

“Just ignore them, dude,” Scott says, moving over to make sure Stiles has plenty of room at their table. “They’ll forget all about it in a day or so.”

“I still hate it. Man, don’t we get gossiped about enough? With all the bruises and hospitalizations and stuff, there’s enough things to talk about.” Stiles keeps his eyes down on his food, aggressively eating his sandwich.

“Scott is right, you’re a celebrity for a day or so. There’s what - about 1800 students here? Roughly fifteen percent will be omegas, so that’s 270 total. Let’s divide them equally by grade, there’ll be about 65 omegas in our year.” Lydia finishes her speech with a shrug and goes back to eating her salad, looking over to Allison. “How are you doing? Less dramatic?”

Alison shrugs and leans closer to Scott, also not wanting to talk about things changing. Although there’s nothing that she’s not allowed to do – other than touching Stiles.

“Well, I hope someone else shows up because I’m tired of being the celebrity of the week,” Stiles mutters, looking around the room before ripping into his bag of Fritos.

“So changing the subject, are you going to try out for track?” Scott reaches over and gives Stiles one of his cookies. “That would be kinda cool, and we’d all come to meets and cheer you on.”

Boyd nods and says with a smile, “Yeah, in a month or so, you’ll be back to just being the geeky son of the sheriff who brains himself during track meets.”

 

It’s a surprise to everyone, but Stiles actual excels at track. Possibly from spending most of high school running from one kind of monster or another, but he’s got endurance and speed. He runs middle and long distance events, and as promised, the pack throws their support behind him.

Not only do they attend his meets, they also run with him in the mornings or after school. Even Derek and Peter run with him, although they’re sometimes shifted and Stiles ends up running through the preserve, catching sight of the large wolves as they crash through the trees.

His father prefers this sport to lacrosse, which has meets during the day rather than at night. Scary things happen in Beacon Hills at night. But this new sport seems safer to Andrew; at least there’s fewer bruises. And he likes seeing his son standing with blue ribbons around his neck.

 

The wolves like it, too. After a couple of months off the lacrosse team, he longer smells of bruises and injuries. As a human, Stiles would get injured in their supernatural fights and unfortunately, that was to be expected. But on the lacrosse field, he’d also get hurt, either from the opposing team, or occasionally from ‘friendly fire’ when he’d run into his teammates or the goal frame or sometimes just from falling over.

“Hey, are you ready for the psych test?” Scott asks, as Stiles joins the pack who are gathered by his locker.

“Yeah, kinda,” he says, slipping in between Scott and Erica.

Scott looks him over and Stiles sees his nostrils flare. “Are you okay? You don’t look good and… you smell hurt. And you smell like blood. Are you okay?” he asks, taking Stiles by the shoulder and turning him around, looking up and down for bruises or cuts or whatever injury he has.

“I’m fine, okay, just leave me alone,” he answers, pulling out of Scott’s grip and turning back to his locker. “I’m just tired, okay.”

“No, it’s not okay, dude, you smell hurt, really. What happened, did someone hurt you?” Scott asks, and his eyes briefly flash gold. He’s still Stiles’ best friend and most concerned pack mate.

“No one hurt me, I’m fine.” Stiles shuts his locker and holds his books against his chest, trying to stand up straight. “If you must know, my fucking period started yesterday and it feels like an elephant kicked me in the stomach.”

“Ugh, poor thing, do you have any drugs? I have some real good stuff in my locker,” Erica says, and there’s no mocking, there’s nothing but empathy on her face.

Isaac snorts and shrugs. “Is it really that bad? It seems like you all make it sounds like cramps are the worst thing in the world. How bad can it be?”

Lydia and Erica both growl and Isaac takes a step backwards, not sure who is more threatening.

“Look Isaac,” Stiles tries to stay patient and says, “it feels like my uterus is leaving my body and taking all the nearby organs with it. I’ve been hit in the balls and that was better than this.”

“Come on, let’s get you some of those drugs I was talking about,” Erica says, pulling him gently away from the group and to her locker down the hallway. She pulls out a bottle of over-the-counter drugs and shows Stiles the label. “Remember these, they’re pretty good. I’ll give you enough to last you through the day and maybe you can get your dad or Peter to pick you up some tonight.”

Stiles snorts and says, “Yeah, I’ll call Peter and see if that was something he’s signed up for.” He puts the pills into a pocket in his backpack and asks, “Do these work for you? Since the wolf-thing?”

She shrugs and says, “I take like double the dose every hour or so. It helps enough. And Boyd does the pain-draw thing for me, which helps even more.”

“Man, you’ve been doing this for how long now?” Stiles asks, and tries not to be obvious while he rubs his belly, shutting his eyes for a moment as a cramp rolls through.

“Since I was eleven,” she says and shrugs. “Guess I’m used to it. Not that I love it, but assuming I’m a beta, it’ll stop soon.”

They start walking towards their next classes and Stiles says, “You must be looking forward to that.”

“Well I won’t miss the cramps and the feeling bad, but…” she stops and looks at him, holding his arm because she’s allowed to. “When it stops it means that I definitely won’t ever be able to have a child. I’m not sure I want one, you know, but I’d like that option. Not now of course, but maybe someday. And if I’m a beta…” She sighs and shrugs, looking around the hallway to all the students passing on their way to classes. “Couples never give up their babies and if they don’t want to raise one, someone else in the alpha’s family takes the baby. Two betas just don’t raise children, it just never happens. Never.”  She starts walking again and says, “Just remember, I’ll be the coolest aunt a kid could ever have. If you’re interested, you know. Someday.”

“You’ll be a great aunt someday,” Stiles says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Just don’t rush me, okay?”

“Let’s graduate high school first,” she answers, grinning and rubbing her cheek against his hand, trading their scents.

 

That evening, Stiles is curled up on the couch, a cup of tea on the table in front of him and a blanket wrapped around him. His father stopped at the drug store to pick up the bottle of painkillers Erica recommended, so he’s drugged up and drowsy. When the doorbell rings, Stiles ignores it, letting his father answer.

“Good evening, Sheriff, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Peter,” Andrew says, blocking him from coming in. “Can I help you?”

Peter looks over Andrew’s shoulder, towards the lump on the couch. Stiles sits up  grimacing slightly. “Why’s Peter here?”

“I heard you weren’t feeling well and thought maybe I could help. If you’ll let me,” he says, and looks from father to son. “May I come in?”

Andrew shrugs and looks to Stiles who shrugs back. He came to the door at least, much better behaved than most of the pack. At least for now. “Come in,” Andrew finally says, stepping away from the door.

“Hello, Stiles, how are you feeling?” Peter’s sitting on the edge of the coffee table, concern showing on his face.

He shrugs and says, “Okay. Why, did someone tell you I wasn’t feeling good?”

“Hmm, there may have been something mentioned,” Peter says, smiling. “You know how your packmates gossip.”

“My packmates, yeah, sure. And I’m sure you don’t try to listen in.” Stiles leans back down against the couch and says, “So that’s why you’re here? To see if I’m really hurting? Cause I’m not faking it.”

“Oh, I know that, I can smell it on you,” he says and holds up a hand. “Now, now, don’t be upset, I know you hate it when we scent you, but I can’t help it when your pain is so clear. I can take your pain.”

“Why you?” Stiles asks, catching his father’s eye and seeing him nod.

Peter snorts and shakes his head. “So suspicious still, aren’t you, Kitten? Your Scott probably doesn’t realize what you need and you won’t ask. Erica needs Boyd to help her just now. Isaac? Do you want Isaac’s help?”

“No, he’s a little bitch,” Stiles mumbles.

“I could call Derek, but frankly his complaining has to be nearly as bad as your pain. And do you want to be in his debt? I’m here. Let me help.”

Stiles shuts his eyes and tries to stay quiet as a wave of pain goes through him. After taking a breath he says, “Okay, do the pain thing. Please.”

“Certainly, that’s why I’m here.” Peter moves so he’s sitting on the edge of couch, near Stiles’ waist. He reaches a hand out and puts it on Stiles’ arm and they both watch as his veins turn black. After a minute, he pulls his hand away, shaking it and flexing his hand. “That should help a little. Can you lie back on the couch?”

Andrew moves so he’s in a more direct line of sight when Stiles straightens and leans back on the couch, rubbing his belly. “It’s better, Peter, you can stop.”

“In a minute,” he says and puts his other hand on Stiles’ stomach, just over his belly-button where the cramps are the worst.

By the time Peter’s done, Stiles is yawning and has a stupid smile on his face. “That’s some good stuff,” he says and yawns again. “I feel like I had a couple of shots of something.”

“Not that you’d know what that feels like,” his father says, smiling from above his head. “You gonna sleep here for a bit?”

“I have homework,” Stiles slurs, feeling his eyes shut. “I’m getting right up. Any time now…”

He vaguely hears his father and Peter discussing Peter coming back later to check on him and surprisingly his father okays it. Strange, but Stiles isn’t going to argue, not when sleep is calling.

 

The next day when he wakes up for school, he feels pretty good. Well rested and the worst of the cramps seem to be over. He thinks back to a dream he had where Erica was crying as someone took a baby from her and then Peter crawled into his window to give him the baby. He’s not sure what that means, but babies are definitely something he doesn’t want to think now, something for far off in the future.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack has their high school graduation party! And there's a discussion of where they're going to college. And if Stiles should have a roomie. (Hint - he should.)

Scott can barely keep himself from jumping up and down, he’s more excited than Stiles remembers ever seeing him. This includes the first time Stiles showed Scott a porn website, which triggered an asthma attack. “This is so cool, man, did you ever think we’d get this far?”

“High school graduation?” Stiles asks. “I expected it. I kind of think everyone expected it.”

“Come on, really? With the alpha pack and kanimas and all that, you never once thought we weren’t going to make it?” Scott asks as he put his bags on top of Stiles’ arm full to pull open the door to Derek’s loft.

“Well when you put it that way…” Before Stiles can finish his thought, Peter’s in front of him taking his packages.

“KFC?” Peter asks, looking at the familiar red and white buckets. “That’s new.”

“We thought we’d do something different,” Scott explains, following him into the kitchen, where he sets down his bags. “Besides, they had a ton of food and since everyone’s coming over, this was easy.”

“Even I’m tired of pizza,” Stiles says, pulling down a stack of paper plates and napkins.

Peter steals a warm cookie and wanders away, chuckling. “Eat while you can, little betas, you’re about to become poor college students.”

 

Dinner is a big success, if you count a room full of teenagers stuffing their faces with a couple hundred dollars of chicken and mashed potatoes a success. But everyone’s happy and relaxed for once, talking about their upcoming graduation.

“I’ve got an extra ticket for the ceremony, if you want to go, Derek,” Scott offers. “Mom is going of course, but Dad won’t be able to.”

“I’m sure that’s making you weep,” Isaac points out, crunching on a chicken thigh bone.

“You have to go,” Erica states, shaking her chicken leg at their alpha. “You probably won’t believe we’ve really graduated unless you see it for yourself.”

“I could just see your diplomas. Or when you get into college, that’s a pretty good indication you graduated high school,” Derek answers, but he’s smiling. Smiles are a little more frequent than they were a couple of years ago, with the pack gelling and no one threatening to kill them for over a year.

“I think we should see it live,” Peter says. “Stiles, you must have an extra ticket, right?” He’s sitting at the kitchen counter, away from the group, but still in the same room, lurking as usual. Since he became Stiles’ alpha, the pack tolerates him a bit more, even if it can’t really be called love.

Stiles sighs and looks down, waiting a long moment before he says, “Yeah, I don’t think my dad’s taking a date to my graduation. “I know he’s taking the afternoon off. But I don’t think you should plan to go together, he’s really not ready for a closer relationship with you.”

“That’s fine, Derek and I will drive together.”

Stiles keeps an eye on Peter, something he always did, but now…somehow he finds he does it more often, and he seems to know where the wolf is when they’re in the same building. He’s not sure if that’s because Peter generally means trouble or because, yes, Peter’s the alpha to his omega.

“Stiles, are you going to be able to be on the track team at college?” Lydia asks, coming to the rescue.

“Uh… I don’t have a scholarship for track or anything; I think I started too late.” He goes to scratch his head, but seeing the grease on his fingers, just wipes them on his jeans instead.

“Where are you going, have you decided?” Isaac asks him, and shoves a napkin in his hand.

Stiles wipes his hands more thoroughly and takes another biscuit, along with a pack of honey. “I haven’t decided yet, it’s either UCSF or UC Davis. One nice thing about the omega stuff, if there is one, is I can make up my mind at the last minute. Everyone wants that diversity, everyone wants to add an omega!”

“San Francisco or Davis?” Peter asks. “Interesting choices, are you leaning in one direction or the other?”

Scott’s practically jumping in his chair and crows, “Pick SF!  Allison and I are going to Berkeley, and you’ll be right across the bay! That’ll be awesome!”

“Yes, San Francisco is nice, there’s a lot to do there.” Peter moves to an empty spot on the sofa next to Erica. “But, as a caution, it’s a large city. A lot of businesses, corporate headquarters, law firms. Lots of alphas there. Looking for yummy little omegas.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, ignoring Erica’s chuckle. She and Peter should not be allowed in the same room together. “I think it’ll be fine, I’ll be on campus and I doubt there’s CEOs just hanging around.”

“You’ll be there all the time? And you don’t think that alphas may want to go to school in San Francisco?”

The omega sighs, tilting his head back and forth as he thinks about it. “It is farther from Beacon Hills. Which is good and bad.”

Isaac jumps in, “Davis is closer, just about ninety minutes away. Too far to live at home, but close enough to get home in a couple of hours if you need to.”

“It’s an interesting city, too, a college town with all the restaurants, and clubs you might want,” Derek chimes in. “Good law or criminal programs, or whatever it is you want.”

“You, too, Derek?” Stiles asks.

“I was thinking if you chose Davis, I’d get an apartment, just off campus. Room for both of us without being on top of each other – so to speak,” Peter says, with a controlled smirk.

“Wait, you think I’d live with you? Nope, I’m doing the college experience, living in a dorm, thanks,” Stiles answers, spitting biscuit crumbs.

Peter brushes imaginary crumbs off his shirt, eyebrows drawn together in annoyance. “Yes, I certainly am getting the good part of the deal. My thought is that an inexperienced omega, in a strange city, may not want to live in a dorm with however many other strangers. No kitchen…sharing a bedroom…sharing a bathroom…”

Stiles knows he’s making a face, he can’t help himself. After years of sports teams, he’s not overly modest, but still. There’s a difference between undressing in front of Scott or Isaac or Danny and undressing in front of strangers. Possibly strange alphas. “What would you do there?”

“Professional creeper,” Boyd whispers to Erica, who snorts unattractively.

Peter shoots him a look that would make anyone else cringe, but Boyd just shrugs it off, as he does all of Peter’s comments. “I do work, you know. I’m translating some shifter histories, among other things. I could do it there as easily as here.”

“Stiles, San Francisco,” Scott urges and looks to Allison for support. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

She’s silent for a moment, biting her bottom lip. “There’s something to be said for starting small. I’d be nervous going to Berkeley if you weren’t coming. And I’m an alpha.”

“Think about it, Stiles. Talk it over with your father and if you’d like, I’ll talk with him about my thoughts,” Peter says as he gets up to go back into his corner. “I’m only thinking of your needs.”

Stiles shakes his head and rolls his eyes, saying, “Oh, god, please stop doing that.”

 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Andrew asks. They’re back at home, sitting in the living room. Andrew has a beer, although he’d prefer something stronger, but he wants to be sure he stays clear headed for another one of these ‘we need to talk about Stiles’ discussions.

“Of course not! I mean it might be a good idea, I just don’t know.” Stiles sighs and shrugs, looking at his dad. “He’s got some good points. I haven’t even had a heat yet and I don’t know how it’ll be. Supposedly, it won’t be much, but maybe not in a dorm would be good.”

“And you don’t want to go to college in San Francisco? You were talking about that or Stanford, what happened to that?” Andrew would hate it if Stiles went to Stanford; it’s too far away, but he wants to be sure he considers his options.

“Well, if I want to try to do something with law – something that’s not being a lawyer – Stanford might not be the right place.” He scratches his head and says, “And I can always transfer to UCSF for my second or third year.”

“Okay, so let’s say that Davis makes sense. It’s got the courses you want?”

Stiles nods and so Andrew continues, “But living with Peter?”

“Again, not being in a dorm. I think they’d match me with another omega, but I’d still be in a building with a bunch of people I don’t know, including alphas I don’t know. Brand new alphas who probably don’t have a lot of experience with omegas. But they can’t all be bad, right?”

Andrew sits quietly for a minute, not sure he wants to even say his next thought out loud. “Maybe getting to know some alphas would be good for you. They’re not going to jump you and they certainly won’t want to hurt you. Meeting alphas who aren’t from here could be a good thing.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Stiles gets up and paces around the small room. “I mean, I’m going to meet alphas wherever I go, right? I just want to meet them…in small doses, not like a bunch at one time.”

“Okay, so if we say that Davis is the place for you – and god knows they’ve offered you a lot to go there – is an apartment with Peter the right thing?” Andrew asks, watching Stiles walk back and forth.

He flops down on a chair and shrugs. “I could look into getting a place by myself or with a different roommate.”

“Those are options. Although I have to be a parent and say that maybe your first place by yourself isn’t my favorite idea. None of your friends are going to Davis?”

Stiles shakes his head. “No, other places around California. Isaac’s going to the community college here in fact.”

Andrew perks up and says, “That’s not a bad option, Stiles. You could keep your old bedroom, you won’t need to clean it out before you go.”

“Yeah, no, Dad.” He smiles and leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. “Definitely going somewhere, so let’s say Davis.”

“I’m not sure if I’m more concerned if you live with Peter or if you live with someone I don’t know at all,” Andrew says, finishing his beer and putting the bottle on the floor. “I mean, at least we know he’ll look after you. He’ll make sure the rent is paid and there’s food in the house. He won’t be able to _not_ do that.”

Stiles sighs again and says nothing, just looking down.

“Do you think he has romantic feelings for you?” Andrew asks quietly.

“Ro--? Romantic feelings? For me?” He looks so genuinely surprised that Andrew thinks he can’t be faking and his son is really good at faking.

“Could he?” Andrew pushes. It works with interrogations and although he hates doing it, it also works with Stiles.

Stiles shakes his head as though to clear it and says, “Wow. I can’t picture Peter with romantic feelings for anyone. That would imply feelings for someone other than himself. I don’t know that’s possible.”

“Stiles,” Andrew says quietly, hoping his son has a little more tact around his alpha. “He did have a wife. And a three-year old daughter. They both died in the fire. So unless it was some type of marriage of convenience, he must have had romantic feelings at one point.”

Stiles’ jaw drops and he looks at his father. “Oh shit, I didn’t remember that. When we looked at the file about the fire, there were just so many Hales named.” He runs a hand through his hair and says, “Yeah. Of course. He was registered with an omega before.”

“It’s something I have to keep in mind whenever I think of his killing spree. If someone had done that to you and your mother.” Andrew blows out a breath and shrugs. “I don’t know that I wouldn’t have done something similar.”

Stiles nods and says, “Okay, so he can have romantic feelings, but I don’t think he has feelings like that for me. I mean, he wants to take care of his pack and me as his omega, but …” He pauses for a moment and shrugs, “I don’t even know that he likes males; he was married, he’s probably attracted to female genders.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so; I think the wolves don’t really look at gender,” Andrew says.

“Really? Where’d you hear that?”

Andrew chuckles and says, “Derek, actually. In a very weird conversation, where I was stupid enough to say that to me it looks like Isaac has a little crush on Scott. And then Derek tells me he might, because wolves don’t care about a person’s gender if they smell right. Or something like that. I didn’t want to get details.”

“Huh. I don’t know if Isaac has a crush or not, I never thought of it that way. I know he hero worships Scott. And Scott worships Allison.” Stiles rubs his face with both hands and yawns loudly. “So bisexual Peter and Derek? Well, good for Derek because his choice of girlfriends sucks.”

“And back on topic, Scott is your best friend, but Peter’s the one who’s been here for you, helping you with your cramps every month.” He stands and collect his beer bottle, “Right now, you should go to bed. And really sleep, don’t just go to bed and play on your phone,” Andrew says, making a parental face.

“Yeah. I don’t know, my head’s kinda buzzy now. Too much on my mind.” He stands and stretches and heads for the stairs to try to get some sleep. “I think tomorrow I’ll talk with Peter and get some more of an idea of what he’s thinking. But I won’t rule it out.”

“Good idea, keep your options open.” Andrew double-checks the locks on the doors and shuts off the lights in the living room before he follows Stiles to the stairs. “Really, try to get some sleep, okay? Love you, son.”

“You too, Dad.”

 

“Okay, Peter, let’s talk about this fantasy apartment of yours in Davis,” Stiles says as he pushes his way past Peter into the loft.

“Oh, please do come in,” Peter answers stepping back from the door. “So glad you got my invitation. No wait, I didn’t invite you.”

“Too bad. And this isn’t actually your house, so you can’t invite people.”

“And yet here you are looking for me,” Peter says, sitting down on the sofa. “So you want to talk about my suggestion.”

Stiles snorts and flops on the other couch. “Yeah, I guess so. I talked with my dad and he thought it wasn’t a bad idea.”

“I have good ideas on occasion,” Peter says, smirking and holding out his hand. “You and I, for example.”

“Why am I even considering this?” Stiles asks the ceiling. “Okay, what’s your plan, alpha mine?”

Peter grins and sits back, putting his feet on Derek’s coffee table, even though Derek hates that. Or maybe because Derek hates that. “I’ve already contacted a real estate agent to look for a condo. Three bedroom and two baths, I think that should be a good size. She’s looking just outside of downtown, so your drive will be fifteen minutes or so to campus.”

“You’ve already started looking? Kind of presumptuous,” he says. “And a condo? Not an apartment? Is that kind of permanent?”

“I don’t like rentals, I want to own the property. Fewer questions and annoyances that way.” Peter stretches and settles back in his seat, like a contented cat. “I already have other properties; I like having bolt-holes if I need them.”

“Will I get any say in where this is?” Stiles asks, more for form than for any real thought that there’s a chance.

Peter smiles and raises an eyebrow, answer enough.

“Laundry room in the building?” Stiles asks. No way does he want to haul dirty clothes to a laundry mat. If that’s the option, he’ll never have clean clothes.

“I’ve said I need a laundry hookup in the unit. And I’ve asked if one of the bedrooms can be away from the others; hopefully at the end of a hall. That’ll be your room so you have some privacy,” Peter answers, looking quite smug about having thought about everything.

Stiles glares at Peter, more for form than anything else, because that really does sound like everything Stiles might want. “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll look at the place, okay?”

“Even if you don’t want to share an apartment, you’re considering Davis? I think that’s a good choice.”

“You made some good points,” Stiles says, because it’s true. “And more importantly, my father thinks it’s a good idea. Him, I respect.”

“You keep telling yourself that’s the reason, Kitten. I’ll set up an appointment for this weekend and we’ll look at some places and be sure you’re ready for this fall.”

“I’m lucky I have such a good alpha,” Stiles says, trying to keep his voice teasing. But really, it might be true.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has his first heat. It affects Peter more than he'd like to let on.

“Hi, honey, I’m home!”

Stiles doesn’t get an answer, so he dumps his bookbag on the dining room table, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water and items needed for a turkey sandwich. Something before dinner won’t spoil his appetite, no matter what Peter’s planning; he could eat a horse.

“It’s so lovely how that never gets old, even after a month,” Peter says, coming out of his office. Originally Stiles wasn’t thrilled that Peter’s office is next to his bedroom, but Peter doesn’t work in the evening, and this condo was the one with the best layout. As promised, Peter’s bedroom is at the other end of the house. He has the adjoining bathroom, but since he’s paying for everything, Stiles isn’t going to complain, at least not too much.

Stiles finishes making his sandwich and shoves half of it in his mouth, reaching back into the fridge for a can of Coke. “You want me to make you a sandwich or anything?”

“No, thank you. You seem hungry, did you skip lunch?” Peter asks, sliding in the kitchen and putting a handful of cookies on Stiles’ plate.

“Hmm, thanks,” he says, as he finishes his sandwich and starts on a plastic container of homemade cookies. “No, I had lunch, I guess I’m just extra hungry? I had track practice this morning, so maybe that’s it.”

“I’m sure it is,” Peter says. “Are you around for dinner tonight?”

Stiles yawns, showing teeth stained with cookie crumbs. “Yeah. I have a little bit of homework and I think I’ll crash early tonight. Do you have plans?”

“No, nothing I can’t put off,” Peter says. He moves closer to Stiles, and turns him to look at his face. “Other than tired, you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, pulling back. “Are you okay?”

Peter tilts his head, studying Stiles carefully and then slowly reaches out to put the back of his hand on Stiles’ forehead. “You have a fever. Not too high, maybe a hundred?”

Stiles shrugs and steps back, until he’s backed against the kitchen counter. “I said I feel okay, but thanks for being creepy.”

“I’m not trying to be creepy, I’m just concerned.” Peter cages Stiles in with his arms, leaning forward and scenting along Stiles’ neck. “Stay still, please.”

“What are you doing?” Stiles whispers, tilting his head so the wolf can sniff him. He breathes deeply as well, inhaling Peter’s smell – rich, deep and woody, like rain in the preserve.

“Just checking on you,” Peter answers and pulls back, moving as far as possible in the narrow room. He keeps smiling gently and Stiles sees his eyes quickly flash bright blue. “You’re getting ready to start your heat, probably started yesterday. I thought I smelled it on you this morning.”

Stiles shakes his head to clear it, babbling, “What? I’m not supposed to be, I’m taking the pills, I swear I am, and…”

“You’re fine, the pills are working. What you’re feeling now is pre-heat and it’s suppressed – calmed down, nothing like a real one. But it’s why you’re hungry and have a fever. Those symptoms are still there, but muted, and with the suppressants, you won’t have an actual heat.” Peter goes into the fridge and takes another bottle of water, then takes Stiles by the elbow, steering him down the hall to his room. “Try to finish the bottle and take a nap. When you get up, try a cool shower and I’ll make something healthy for dinner tonight. You’ll probably be yourself tomorrow. Maybe a little anxious or slightly more, um, interested in people, but you won’t have an actual heat.

“Okay, okay, thanks.” He sits on the side of his bed and toes off his shoes.

Peter looks around the room, the picture of nonchalance, “Do you have a heat dildo?”

“Do I what?” Stiles squeals, and feels himself turn red. Redder, maybe, he’s pretty warm already.

“A heat dildo. It has a longer handle, big enough for two people to hold and the size is also helpful since it can get slippery. It would have a bulb that can be used to inflate a knot. I’m surprised you haven’t tried one, you always struck me as curious.” Peter has a small smile, as though he’s completely harmless and not a giant jerk-off.

“No, I don’t have a heat dildo and I don’t need one since – no heat.” He’s ready to pull off his shirt for a nap, but stops when he sees Peter’s nostrils flare. “Hey, are you okay? I’m on suppressants and so you’re not supposed to be affected and…”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking. But I think I will give you some privacy. And if you’re not too chilled, maybe we can open a window later,” Peter says, backing towards the door.

“That’ll be okay? I don’t want any alphas climbing the building walls trying to break in to get a piece of this.” Stiles tries to smile, hoping Peter’s really okay.

“It’s fine, you really don’t have much of a scent other than your usual omega smell. Nothing much for a normal alpha to scent; I can just smell it more as I’m a werewolf. I don’t think we’ll get anyone climbing the walls, not just yet,” Peter answers from the doorway. “So drink as much as you can and sleep for a bit. You should be feeling normal tomorrow.”

“Okay, thanks. For everything,” Stiles says, finishing his bottle and putting it on the night stand.

“Of course, Stiles. I’m here to help.”

 

Peter’s right, of course and as usual. Stiles does feel better in the morning, after a shower and a huge dinner and a lot of sleep. Hopefully, Peter didn’t hear too much from when he used the vibrator he does own to coax out a couple of relaxing orgasms before sleep.

If he heard anything, he’s not showing it. Stiles comes into the kitchen area freshly showered and with all clean clothes to find Peter putting the finishing touches on breakfast burritos for two.

“Morning, Kitten, feeling better?” he asks, putting breakfast on a plate for Stiles, along with a glass of juice and a bottle of water. “Drink up, you need to be sure you’re hydrated.”

“Hmm, thanks,” Stiles says, around a mouthful of steamy, bacon-filled goodness. “Yeah, I’m feeling pretty good. Thanks again for taking care of me, I hope I didn’t say anything too stupid yesterday.”

Peter shakes his head and says, “Of course not, don’t be silly. You were fine. Ready to go to your classes?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Stiles says, shrugging. “So… are people going to know? That’s I’m in heat – or trying not to be in heat? If someone isn’t a werewolf, can they smell me?”

“Hmm.” Peter says, studying him. “Short answer is maybe. But not to the point where it’ll be a major distraction. But an alpha may notice. Your face is a little flushed, your eyes look a little brighter - fever bright. Your lips look a little pinker and swollen. And you do still have a scent, but not the kind that will make an alpha throw you over their shoulder and carry you off to a cave.”

Stiles stares at him for a minute, swallowing repeatedly. “Wow. Wow, that’s just a lot to think about. I think I’m turning me on.” He finishes his juice and says, “But I should go, right? I mean, the whole idea of suppressants and things is…”

“Yes, you absolutely should go. People may notice, but no one should bother you. And if they do, text me and I’ll come and kill them,” Peter says, with a smug grin. “Could you do me a favor though? Before you go to class, could you toss your clothes in the hamper for me? I thought I’d run a load while you’re out.”

“Sure,” he says, dragging the word out. He takes a drink of water and looks at Peter. “I don’t have a lot of stuff to wash and you usually don’t wash my clothes. Not sure why you….Oh. My stuff stinks.”

“It’s not that your clothes stink, exactly. I’d just be more comfortable if they’re washed.”

Stiles shoves the rest of the burrito into his mouth and pushes back from the table. “Yeah, I can do that. How about my sheets? Probably wash those too and maybe my towels?” He walks down the hallway, muttering to himself while Peter finishes his coffee. 

“Hey, Peter, how about I put everything in, including your stuff? In case you touched me and got my ick on you,” Stiles yells from his room.

Peter can hear him moving around, and hears the washing machine open and cabinets open and shut. “My things are already loaded,” he calls out. “Start with whites and I’ll do a second load while you’re out.”

“Oh yeah, you’re one of those people who sorts clothes,” Stiles says, coming back into the kitchen and grabbing the bottle of water off the table. He finishes it and says, “Thanks for your help. Once again.”

“You’re welcome, now get out before you fail your class and drop out of college and I have to support your sorry ass for the rest of your life.” But Peter’s grin contradicts his words as he takes a sip of his coffee and watches Stiles leave.

 

After he finishes breakfast and gives the kitchen a quick cleaning he plans to start working. There’s a book of spells from Germany that needs to be translated, and he already has a buyer set up. He had to find the original book and now he’s working on the translation. It’s slow work because you have to be precise when translating spells. Close enough doesn’t cut it. But it’s interesting work and once he gets started, he’ll work for several hours before he takes a break.

So probably good to get laundry started before he starts. Thinking of that, he opens a window in the living room to help clear the place out. He doesn’t normally go into Stiles’ area, but this time he goes into the boy’s bedroom and bathroom to open windows and then quickly leaves. It’s not that the scent is that bothersome; he’s used to the house smelling strongly of Stiles. Sharing a space with someone is difficult and Peter values his own privacy so he tries to make sure he doesn’t invade Stiles’ space – at least not too much.

The laundry room isn’t very big, but there’s room enough for the machines, the hamper and a couple of cabinets overhead for supplies. Peter enters and starts the whites, after first checking to be sure Stiles didn’t throw a red shirt in the washer as well. That task done, he’s ready to leave to go into the office and start his real work, when he bumps into the dryer, knocking the bottle of fabric softener into the laundry hamper on the floor.

The smell wafts up from the hamper – pure omega in heat.

Peter shuts his eyes and tries to clear his head from the smell surrounding him in the small room. It’s easier to just let his knees buckle and slide down the wall between the washer and the hamper, bringing him closer to the source of the heavenly scent. It’s sweet, but not cloying. A little spicy, a little earthy, sweet and completely like Stiles, except better.

Peter uses an arm to push himself off the floor and finds himself kneeling in front of the hamper. On top is the pair of jeans Stiles was wearing yesterday. Before he can stop himself, he’s pulled them out of the hamper and falls back against the wall, jeans in his lap, covering his now painful erection. He doesn’t really remember when that happened, but crammed down the leg of his jeans, it’s uncomfortable and demanding attention.

He unzips and releases himself with one hand and the other hand pulls Stiles’ pants to his face. The scent is strong, and he realizes that this is his heat taking suppressants. Without them, he can’t even imagine how wonderful the boy would smell.

He strokes himself, with enough pre-come so he can be rough with himself, pulling roughly on his cock. He thinks about the sounds Stiles makes when he’s eating something he likes, the muffled sounds he makes jerking off in the shower and the noises Peter knows he’d make with Peter’s knot locked in his cunt.

The jeans are slightly damp in the crotch and Peter whines as he smells the traces of slick there, thinking of how wet Stiles must have been so it soaked through his underwear into his pants. Without stopping to think, he digs in the laundry hamper, letting his nose lead him to the pair Stiles wore yesterday. The boxer briefs are even damper than the jeans and Peter can feel the slick, still tacky in the crotch. He twists his hand around the head of his cock and licks the drying slick, feeling his orgasm hit like a sledgehammer.

He pants, letting his head thump on the wall behind him. He tosses Stiles’ underwear into the hamper, shaking his head and making a face and then pulls off his t-shirt and uses it to wipe off his hand and belly.

“Peter Francis Hale, even I am disgusted by you right now,” he mutters as he scrambles off the floor, shoving the hamper back into the corner. “You’re supposed to be his friend. You’re his alpha on paper only. Now get your shit together before he decides to move, you idiot.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a date and Peter spends the day with a friend.

“Hey, Peter, I’m home and wow! Is every window in the house open?”

Peter jerks awake, eyes flashing at Stiles before he recognizes that he’s in the living room. “What? Sorry, I must have dozed off.”

“Yeah, I guess you did,” Stiles says quietly, sitting on the far end of the couch. “Afternoon naps are great, better than trying to sleep at night.”

“I’m sure.” Peter yawns and stands, stretching as he passes Stiles to go into the kitchen, giving his shoulder a squeeze as he passes. After Stiles spends a day at school, Peter always wants to leave his scent on the boy. “How was school, any problems today?”

“It was fine. Really no problems at all. A couple of looks, maybe. Or maybe I was just looking for looks,” he says shrugging. “So you have all the windows open to get my smell out?”

Peter’s quiet as he takes items out of the fridge, thinking of how he should answer while setting up dinner preparation on the countertop. “No, not entirely. I was doing laundry today and I like having the windows open when I do. Get rid of the heat and dampness.”

“Not entirely? Which means there was at least a little annoying omega smell,” Stiles says, but he doesn’t look or smell upset so Peter just grins.

“I’m glad your day went well and no one decided to claim you. I’d hate to have to go there and kill the competition,” he says, but the huge yawn makes him look much less fierce.

“Well, nothing too aggressive. One teacher gave me the eye a little,” Stiles answers. “And I did get asked out for coffee after class on Friday.”

Peter’s claws pierce a pork chop and he calmly pushes it back together. “Really? By whom? Not the teacher?”

“A girl in my chemistry lab, her name’s Serena. We’ve been working together for the last couple of weeks and talking, and today she suggested that after class Friday we should get a coffee.” Stiles grabs a bottle of soda out of fridge and sits at the counter watching Peter season the chops. “Is that okay? Will that be a problem?”

“Of course not, don’t be stupid,” Peter says, without looking up. “Sounds like what you’re supposed to be doing in college. So dinner’s pork chops. Do you want rice, potatoes or pasta with it?”

Stiles smiles and says, “You choose.”

Peter turns to the pantry and brings out a bag of potatoes. “I’ll make some of the pan fried red potatoes,” Peter says, knowing they’re Stiles’ favorite. “Carrots or broccoli?”

“Broccoli,” Stiles answers, knowing it’s Peter’s favorite. “How long ‘til dinner?”

“About an hour,” Peter answers, turning to the pantry for garlic and oil. “I’ll call you when it’s ready, Kitten.”

“Okay, thanks,” he answers, glad that Peter’s not angry at him. It’ll be weird going out on a date, even just a coffee date, but it’s also kind of exciting. He didn’t date at all the last year in high school, too busy trying to get used to his new omega status. “I’m gonna call my dad and take a nap for a few.”

 

“Don’t forget, I’m going to be home a little late tonight,” Stiles says, shoving an energy drink and some fruit into his backpack along with text books for the day’s classes.

“Remind me,” Peter requests, rubbing his eyes as he pours coffee into his mug. He’s decidedly not a morning person, but he tries to be at least slightly awake when Stiles leaves in the morning to make sure he’s had coffee and takes food with him. The boy would forget to eat if he Peter didn’t remind him.

“Coffee date with Serena, remember? The girl in my lab who asked me out?”

“Oh, of course. She asked you out when you were in your heat – suppressed heat, I know – so is she an alpha?” Peter asks, buttering his English muffin somewhat aggressively.

Stiles tries not to roll his eyes and leans against the kitchen counter, feeling sorry for Peter’s breakfast. “I have no idea. When someone asks me for coffee, I don’t usually ask them what’s between their legs.”

“You can’t tell? You were in heat, you didn’t notice any appealing smell from her?” Peter asks.

“No, but she has really nice perfume. It’s not too strong or too sweet or anything. Just really pretty,” Stiles answers, thoughts going to Serena. “So I don’t think I’ll be too late, but maybe don’t count on me for dinner. You know, in case coffee goes well and we decide to go out for food or something.”

Peter switches on the television to one of the morning news shows and nods, turning slightly away from Stiles. “Of course, have fun. See you when you’re back.”

Stiles puts his hand on Peter’s shoulder and ducks his head to look at the older man. “You okay with this? You said you were.”

Peter pats his hand and smiles. “Sorry, of course I’m okay with you going out. Part of me will always worry; you’re pack,” he says shrugging. “And you have absolutely no sense of self-preservation. Go have fun. I may go out to lunch with someone myself.”

Ignoring the little twinge in his stomach, Stiles says, “Cool, you should get out, you’re not meant to just baby-sit me. Someone you met here?”

“No, I’ve known them for a while. They just happen to live a little closer now, and we’ve been talking about getting together. Since you’re occupied, today may be a good day,” Peter answers. He finishes his breakfast and moves past Stiles to put both their cups into the dishwasher.

“They and them? No name or gender? Are you trying to be sneaky?” Stiles asks checking his bag once more to be sure he has everything.

Peter does roll his eyes, which is obviously a Hale thing. “No. My friend Oakley is agender and prefers those pronouns. You’re being rather closed minded, aren’t you? I thought college students were much more accepting than that.”

“Hey, pardon me and I apologize,” he answers, holding up his hands in surrender. “I guess I’m still a little shocked at the idea of you having a friend. So you’ve got plans and I’ve got plans and all’s good, right? I’ll see you later tonight, alpha.”

“Enjoy your coffee and take care, Kitten,” Peter says, watching Stiles hoist his backpack over his shoulder and walk out the door.

 

When Stiles gets home it’s still early, before the usual time Peter makes dinner. Since he’s not around, Stiles goes into the kitchen and pulls out things to make something to eat. Peter always makes sure they have lots of things for quick meals and Stiles has a sandwich fixed in just a few minutes. He grabs a soda and pours some chips on his plate then makes his way into the living room, flicking on the TV and flipping channels looking for something to watch.

“Guess Peter’s date went okay,” he mutters, settling for some show where people are trying to live in ridiculously small houses. “Oakley. Stupid name, what kind of name is that? Sounds like something made up.” Stiles shoves some of the chips in his mouth and lies back on the couch with his plate on his stomach so he can watch television. Stiles has the pillow Peter usually has next to him and he turns his head to get a sniff of the alpha’s cologne. “Oakley. Isn’t that a city? Stupid name.”

It’s Peter’s turn to wake up Stiles a couple of hours later. “Hey, you better not get any mayo on my pillow,” he says, kicking the sofa, making Stiles jump.

“What? What? I wasn’t asleep,” Stiles says, sitting up and scrubbing his eyes. “Time ‘zit?”

“About nine.” Peter hangs up his coat in the closet by the front door, and lifts up Stiles’ feet so he can sit on the couch. “How was your day, honey bunch?” he asks, and starts massaging Stiles’ feet, using his thumbs to rub circles on the ball of one foot.

“Okay. Good. Classes were good.” He moans quietly when Peter rubs his arches and asks, “So how was Oakley? Did you do something fun?”

“Oakley’s great, we had a good time. We generally do when we hang out. They remind me of you, actually, they’re full of interesting ideas.” He pulls off Stiles’ socks and drops them on the floor, then proceeds to rub his toes, making Stiles sigh contentedly. “We decided to drive to Calistoga and do mud baths. Well, they did a mud bath, which isn’t my favorite. I did a mineral bath. Here, feel my arm,” Peter says, holding a hand out to Stiles.

Stiles shrugs and rubs Peter’s arm. “Feels arm-y. What am I supposed to be feeling?”

“My skin’s very soft,” Peter states smugly. “I like a nice mineral bath at the end of summer, gets rid of any dry skin.”

“Doesn’t the whole werewolf thing do that?” Stiles asks, risking a sharp look from Peter. “Okay, never mind. Hey, does Oakley know about the whole…” he uses his fingers to mime fangs.

“No, they don’t. It hasn’t been an issue, so there’s no reason to talk about it. You know I don’t believe in letting just anyone know,” Peter says. He’s no longer massaging Stiles’ feet as much as just petting them. “It hasn’t always worked out well for our family.”

“So, maybe at some point though you’ll have to tell them though, right? Like is there a rule about how long you might date someone before you tell them or…”  

“Date someone?” Peter looks genuinely confused when he says, “We’re not dating, Stiles, we’re friends, I said that. I’ve known Oakley forever, since before the fire.”

“Oh. I thought today was a date-date and maybe you two…”

“No, not at all, silly boy. We just get together and have fun. Believe it or not, without any video games or super hero movies involved,” Peter explains. “Today was a spa day. We got facials and treatments and it was all very refreshing.”

Stiles relaxes a bit, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “If you’ve known them since before the fire, how did you explain the remarkable recovery from scarring?”

“Well, they think that I spent some time in Europe with an amazing plastic surgeon.” He chuckles and says, “And it’s funny because Oakley is, on paper, about five years younger than I am and today they were saying that I’m looking younger than they are. I said I did a quick trip back to the doctor for a touch up. Now they think I’m an ongoing wonder of plastic surgery.”

“Huh. So um…how old does that make you?” Stiles asks, nudging Peter’s hands when he stops rubbing his feet.

“Oh, I’m about five years older than Oakley.” He slaps the bottom of Stiles feet, pushes them off his lap and stands. “I’m going to make an omelet, are you hungry?”

“I could eat, if you’re cooking,” Stiles says, following Peter into the kitchen.

Peter pulls things out of the fridge, handing them to Stiles to put on the counter. “Ham, turkey, cheese, onions, mushrooms. No peppers,” he says, sighing in disappointment. “That okay with you?”

“Sure, do you want me to help?”

Peter’s stare and raised eyebrow is enough of an answer and Stiles gets out plates and puts them next to the stove then goes to sit at the other side of the counter where he can watch.

“You didn’t say anything about how your date went, Stiles. What’s her name again, Samantha?” he asks, cutting the vegetables with his claws.

“Serena,” Stiles answers, a smile brightening his face. “Her name’s Serena and it went great.”

The onion is diced in very small pieces as Peter keeps his breathing even. He doesn’t need to scent the air to tell the difference between the _worried-anxious_ smell and the new _happy-interested_ smell wafting off the omega.

“So you had a good time? Drinking coffee and whatever?” Peter goes through the mushrooms in a few swipes and puts the veggies into a pan of butter, giving them a stir before he shreds the cheese and meats.

Stiles smiles, watching Peter slaughter their dinner. “Yeah. We had coffee on that place on G Street and then walked around a while. Went to a couple of bookstores. She’s really smart and she’s an only child, too. Her parents are divorced, and aren’t friendly, so it’s kinda like she was raised by one parent. Turns out we have a lot of things in common.”

“Sounds like it.” Peter has his back turned to Stiles, concentrating on the eggs in the pan. He flips the first omelet on a plate and hands it to Stiles. “Eat while it’s hot.”

“Thanks. I’m surprised you didn’t have dinner with Oakley,” he says, talking around a mouthful of eggs, which never fails to get on Peter’s nerves.

“We had lunch a few hours ago. It was a bit of a spa lunch; pretty, but not overly filling,” he answers, putting his plate next to Stiles and starting to eat. “So you and Selena are going out again?”

“Serena,” Stiles says patiently. “Like the tennis player. Like Samantha’s cousin in Bewitched. Like in Gossip Girl. Get it?”

“I’ll certainly try. So are you going out again?” Peter asks, not looking up from his dinner.

“Yes. Sometime next week. We’ll figure it out when classes are good for both of us. I thought maybe I’d take her to dinner.” Stiles rinses his plate off and puts it in the dishwasher, then washes the dishes Peter used to cook. When he’s done, he cleans up Peter’s dishes as well. “Hey,” he says, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You are okay with me taking her out, right? You’ve said you are, but if you’re not…”

Peter rubs his face on Stiles’ hand, scenting each other, which calms them both. “I’m okay with it, really.” He sighs and looks at the omega. “As your friend, I want you to have fun and meet people and date. Your packmate is worried about who this person is and can they hurt you, which hurts us. Your alpha…” Peter shrugs and says, “Wants to meet this person and be sure I like them.”

“Can you maybe wait until after we have a dinner date?” Stiles asks, smoothing Peter’s hair back into place. “I promise I’m not going to marry her until we have dinner together at least twice.”

“Thank you. And with that, I’m going to go to my room, maybe read for a while.” Peter gets up and starts down the hall towards his room.

“Hey, Peter,” Stiles calls to him, tapping next to his eye, “the facial looks good, the wrinkles around your eyes are definitely looking softer.”

“Go to bed, Stiles,” Peter calls, without turning around. But he grins.

“Love ya, zombie wolf!” Stiles calls back and Peter hears his door shut.

“Love you, too, Kitten,” he whispers to himself and gets ready for bed.

  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets Stiles' new girl friend and talks a little about his wife.

The noise in the hall attracts Peter’s attention. He turns down the television from the episode of ‘Hoarders’; he’s already seen it anyway. Of course he recognizes Stiles’ voice and the other voice is a female, with a slight British accent.

It was inevitable, of course. They’ve been seeing each other for over a month and his boy smells of this woman almost all the time. It’s not too obnoxious, or at least he recognizes that Stiles is trying. As soon as he comes home, he jumps in the shower and changes his clothes. But there’s always a bit of a scent on him, especially now that he’s sometimes gone for the entire night.

“Are you sure this will be okay? I can wait if you want,” the woman says and Peter can smell her through the door. _Anxious-interest-nerves_.

“No, it’s fine,” Stiles says, “Really. It’s about time you two met. It’ll be fine, he hardly ever bites.”

Peter turns the TV to a music channel and picks up a book, glancing towards the door when it opens.

“Hey, Peter,” Stiles calls as he enters the living room, arm around the young woman, a good head shorter than he is. “Thought it was time you and Serena meet.”

He stands, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says, noting her hand is dry and her shake is just firm enough. Her skin is light brown and her hair is dark and wavy, tumbling over Stiles’ hand on her shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Hale,” she says, with a pretty smile. “Stiles has told me so much about you, I’m glad we could finally meet.”

“I am, too. Well, do come in,” he says. “And call me Peter.”

“Hey, Peter, isn’t ‘Hoarders’ on now?” Stiles asks, looking towards the television that’s currently playing ‘70s classic soul.  “Peter loves that show,” he tells Serena. “Watching people wallow in filth and misery, it’s made for him.”

Serena chuckles and says, “My mother got me hooked on ‘Intervention’ so I think I understand.”

“We just stopped by for a few minutes,” Stiles explains. “We’re going to go grab dinner and maybe meet up with a couple of friends afterwards.”

“But not too late, you have that chemistry exam tomorrow morning,” Serena reminds Stiles.

“Yeah. So I won’t be home too late, Peter,” he says, beaming at Serena.  

“Do you have time for a cup of tea before you go? Serena and I haven’t had a chance to talk at all.” Peter moves into the kitchen and turns the stove on under the kettle, moving to get out mugs, sugar and milk.

Stiles looks at Serena with a raised eyebrow and says, “Uh, do we?”

“I think so,” Serena smiles back at him. “Stiles says that you sell antique books, Peter? That sounds interesting.”

Peter measures tea leaves into the filter and pours the boiling water in before he answers. “I hope black tea is good for you,” he says, putting everything on the counter. “And it is interesting, it’s something I’ve been doing for a while.”

Serena adds sugar and milk to her tea, pushing a mug over to Stiles. “When did we get a pitcher for cream?” he asks Peter, picking it up and looking at it.

“It’s not cream, it’s milk.” Peter pours some in his tea and says, “And we’ve had it as long as we’ve had the teapot.” He looks over to Serena and then nods to Stiles. “He drinks it black.”

“Well he does make up for it with the coffee drinks,” she answers, smiling at Peter. And she touches Stiles’ arm.

Peter shudders theatrically and sighs. “You can’t teach someone good taste.”

“My coffees taste good, thank you both very much. And I like plain tea, so sue me,” Stiles answers them, grinning.

“You’re in the veterinary program, Serena?” Peter asks, ignoring the omega, who’s already finished his tea, and glancing at his watch.

“Yes. I wasn’t sure it was what I wanted, but I told my parents I’d start with the program, and actually I love it. It’s a good mix of people, animals and science,” she explains, sipping her tea. “Stiles, how can you drink something so hot, so fast?”

He shrugs and says, “I dunno. Maybe it’s my hot omega blood?”

“Is that a thing?” Serena asks Peter. “I know omegas have heats, does that affect…”

“No, he’s just an idiot,” Peter answers her, raising an eyebrow to Stiles. “He’s impatient and constantly burns his mouth. It has nothing to do with being an omega, it has to do with being an idiot.”

“Thanks, Peter, glad you could clear that up.” Stiles takes his cup along with the milk and sugar and puts them back into the kitchen. “So hey, we should probably get going, Serena  – unless you’d rather spend the evening bonding with Peter?”

“While that would be fun, I think you promised me dinner,” Serena answers, smiling at Stiles. “Do I get a quick tour of the rest of your home?”

“Ummm, sure?” Stiles looks around and says, “That’s the living room and that’s the kitchen.”

“Ah, thank you for explaining that. I was wondering about the stove in the room over there,” Serena says and for a minute Peter thinks he could like this girl with her sarcasm and sharp tongue.

“Come on, I’ll show you my room.” Stiles glances at Peter and says, “Real quick, ‘cause then we have to go.”

Peter hears them walk down the hall, hears Stiles point out the door to his office and then they go into his room, shutting the door. Peter knows they’re not doing anything; Stiles wouldn’t do that, but it still gives him a twinge.

After just a few minutes they come out, and Stiles has on extra clothes and a beanie, both ready to go out into the chilly evening.

“I won’t be home late,” Stiles says, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Fine, have fun,” Peter answers, tilting his head to trade scents with the boy. He reaches around and slips a couple of twenties into Stiles’ back pocket. “Be safe,” he whispers, not thinking of anything in particular, just everything that might be out there.

“Have a good night, Peter,” Serena calls. “Nice to meet you.”

“See you soon, I’m sure, dear,” Peter says, picking up his book and settling back down on the couch. He turns the volume up on the television since the apartment suddenly seems too quiet.

 

As promised, Stiles isn’t too late getting home; the news isn’t even finished when he comes in, hanging up his coat on the rack by the door.

He flops down on the couch next to Peter, crowding into his space, wrapping Peter’s arm around his shoulder.

“You smell funny,” Peter says, alarm making his eyes flash. “You smell…like an upset alpha.” He pulls back and looks at Stiles, studying his face and searching for Stiles’ scent underneath whatever it is that’s currently coating him.

“Well, yeah, that would probably be because of the upset alpha,” Stiles replies, tilting his head so Peter can thoroughly scent him.

“What happened? I thought you were eating dumplings?” Peter asks, voice muffled as he still has his face in Stiles’ neck.

“Well, we did. And thanks for the loan, by the way. So we’re leaving the restaurant and we walk past the hot dog restaurant next door and there’s a guy inside who’s yelling at the clerk and the clerk looks all worried and so…”

“And so you felt compelled to go in, because you have no concept of personal safety, right?” Peter says, sighing and pulls Stiles back into his side. “And then what?”

“I went in to talk with him. I’m not sure why, really.” Stiles scratches his head and leans into Peter again. “He looked upset and I felt I should talk with him.” He’s silent for a moment until Peter pokes his side. “Yeah, sorry. He was trying to get some Ortega chili dogs for his omega because she’s going into heat, but they were out of the chilis and he’s freaking out and yelling and the girl behind the counter was getting nervous. So I told him that I understood he was upset. I mean, The Dumpling House was out of the shrimp and chicken dumplings so we had to substitute the pork and kimchi ones, which were great, by the way.”

“Okay. You, an omega, decided to approach an alpha who was aggressive because he couldn’t provide for his omega in heat. That makes sense, Stiles,” Peter says, sighing and rubbing his face into Stiles’ hair. The alpha smell is fading, but it’s still annoying.

“Like I said, it made sense at the time. Anyway, I told him what I’d like if they were out of the Ortega chili dogs – just the regular chili dogs, with extra onion, but substitute Polish dogs.” Stiles shrugs against Peter and says, “He got like a half-dozen of them for his omega. He seemed good when he left.”

“While I wouldn’t recommend you do that again, it is something an omega can do. That’s an omega’s power; you can calm down an alpha,” Peter says quietly. He certainly feels calmer when Stiles is plastered up against him, warm, pliant and fragrant.

“Huh, it didn’t seem like much of anything,” he shrugs again. “Anyway, you really made an impression on Serena. She couldn’t stop talking about you after we left.”

“She seems like a nice girl,” Peter says, voice flat. “You like her?”

“Yeah, I like her,” Stiles says. He shifts down the couch, using Peter’s leg as a pillow. “I mean, I don’t know that she’s the girl I’ll marry or anything. She’s my first real girlfriend, after all. Heck, I don’t know.”

“No rush,” Peter tells him, stroking Stiles’ hair, which always soothes them both. “You should go to bed, you have classes in the morning. That’s why you’re home early, right?”

Stiles nods and yawns. “I should. I will in a minute.”

They’re both quiet, and Peter picks up a book from the table next to him when suddenly Stiles asks, “Peter, when you were married to Tricia…” He stops and Peter hears his heart beat skip. “Umm, if it’s okay to ask, that is… did you go out and get her her favorite foods before her heat?”

It doesn’t hurt as much as he expects, which is good, although it’s also a little sad. He thinks for a minute and says, “Yes. There was an Italian restaurant outside of Beacon Hills, maybe a thirty minute drive. I’d go there and get her a tray of lasagna each time she was having a heat.” He motions with his hands, what looks like about the size of a sheet cake pan. “That and a dozen meat balls. It got to where I’d call them and tell them to have it ready for the next day.” Stiles looks up and sees Peter with a soft smile. “She’d eat that in about two days’ time. Once, Talia tried to take a meatball and Tricia growled at her. It even put Talia off.”

“So she was a wolf then?” Stiles asks, rolling on his back so he can look at Peter while they talk. “Was she born or bitten?”

“She was bitten,” he says. “We’d been dating for almost a year and of course I hadn’t told her. Everyone knows it isn’t safe, not right off.”

Stiles nods, thinking how that’s certainly been proven true.

“We were on a date in San Francisco, seeing a show. Afterwards, we were just walking around and talking and I guess we got to a dicey part of town without realizing it. Someone came out of an alley and grabbed Tricia’s bag and ran and I shifted and ran after him without even thinking about it.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “When I came back and gave her purse back to her. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but she just said, ‘That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.’ We, um, reconfirmed our intent to marry in the back of the Talia’s SUV in a parking lot.”

“Talia must have loved that,” Stiles chuckles, smiling at how relaxed Peter seems sitting here with him.

“There was a bit of time before she was back in the car. I don’t know what her reaction was.” Peter brushes a bit of hair off Stiles’ forehead and says, “Isn’t it bedtime for you, I thought that’s why you’re home early.”

Stiles sits up and says, “Yeah, yeah, in a minute. So when did Talia give Tricia the bite?”

“After we married. That was the normal time in our family, if someone was to be brought into the pack. Some did it before, but we always waited until after.” Peter sighs and Stiles can tell he’s gone from fond memories to too deep inside his head. “It was to ensure that the person wanted the marriage and everything that came with it and not just the bite. I suppose a person could lie, but we’d have known. And Tricia, she wanted everything. She wanted our family to be her family.”

“Hey,” he says, and turns Peter’s face towards him. “Hey, Peter, thanks for sharing that with me. I appreciate that you tell me these things. You can always talk to me about Tricia, any time you want to. Okay?”

Peter blinks a couple of times and Stiles sees the light coming back into his eyes, sees that he’s back in the present.

“Thank you, Stiles.” Peter shakes his head and moves away, just enough so there’s some space in between them. “You’ve always been a good listener.”

“Sure.” He yawns and says, “I think it’s time I went to bed. You should, too.” Stiles gives Peter’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and Peter tilts his head for a second, shutting his eyes and rubbing his cheek against Stiles’ hand.

“Yes, I think I will. It’s been a long day,” He rises and they go to their separate ends of the house, both lost in thought.

 

It’s a few weeks later when Peter’s awakened by the front door opening. He hears the locks click into place and scents the air, smelling Stiles. His scent is tired-depressed-resigned. Peter checks his watch and sees it’s three in the morning. Stiles hasn’t gone to his room, he’s doing something in the kitchen and Peter decides to get up and check.

“Hey, Peter,” Stiles whispers, looking up and seeing Peter enter, in a t-shirt and thin sweats, something he pulls on when leaving his room. Stiles knows he normally sleeps nude.  

“Hey, yourself. Are you in late? Or early? I thought you planned to be at Serena’s tonight,” Peter says, stifling a yawn and watching as Stiles moves bottles around the liquor cabinet. “Are you looking for anything in particular? Because you don’t like any of those, I don’t think.”

“Jack, my old friend!” Stiles answers, pulling a bottle out and showing the label to Peter. “Regular grade? No wolfsbane?”

“No, it’s safe for you. In small doses.” Peter watches silently as Stiles pours what amounts to a double in a coffee mug. “Anything you want to talk about? What causes late night drinking as a minor?”

Stiles takes a sip and makes a face, then takes another drink. “Not much to talk about,” he says, shrugging. “Had dinner with Serena, went back to her place and she broke up with me.”

Peter raises an eyebrow, saying nothing. Stiles will talk when he’s ready.

“Apparently, she decided that omegas really should be with alphas. That biology makes sense and it’s not fair to me and it’s not fair to all the alphas of the world for her to take a wonderful omega like me out of the gene pool.” He finishes his drink and moves towards the bottle, but Peter beats him to it.

“Drowning your sorrows in alcohol isn’t the best idea. You’ll know that in the morning. So what else did she say?” Peter asks, moving behind Stiles and plugging in the kettle. He pulls out fresh mugs and puts some herbal tea into the kettle waiting for the water to boil.

Stiles scrubs his hands through his hair and takes the milk out of the fridge, putting it next to the sugar by Peter’s mug. “Oh, she mentioned how I’ve calmed down upset alphas and then there was this alpha who was really nice to me when I had a meltdown in the library.”

“You never mentioned that,” Peter says mildly, pouring water into the pot. After all, there’s no reason for him to be annoyed with some faceless, unknown alpha. Helping his omega.

“I didn’t want you to get that expression on your face,” Stiles answers, smiling for the first time since he’s been home. “And Serena also mentioned this one guy at the coffee shop we go to between classes, he always gives me bigger drinks and extra pastries. He says he wants to be sure I have enough to eat. I just give them to Serena, I thought she liked it.”

“Hmm, some alpha moving in on you in front of a woman who’s obviously your date? Rude.” Peter fixes both of their tea, and herds Stiles towards the living room.

Stiles sits on the couch, pulling his legs up so he can rest his chin on his knees. “Yeah, well some alphas are pushy assholes, not sure you noticed. Thanks for the tea.”

“You’re welcome,” Peter answers, taking a sip of his own. “Did you tell Serena that your parents were a beta-omega combination?”

“Yes, I told her that before.”

“Would it help if I spoke with her? Told her a little bit about alpha-omega dynamics?” Peter asks, watching for Stiles’ reaction.

Which is a snort and quiet cough as the tea goes down wrong. “No, thanks, but I don’t think so. That’s kind of like having your mom come and yell at the bully who picked on you on the playground. So thanks, but no thanks.”

Peter shrugs. “Did you love her?” he asks quietly.

Stiles thinks for a minute and shakes his head. “No. Not yet. I really liked her though. I might have fallen in love with her. We really got along and she was fun. And now I feel like shit.”

“Come here,” Peter says, opening his arms and letting Stiles fall forward so he’s resting his head on Peter’s shoulder, Peter’s arms wrapped around him. “So it’s good that she broke up with you when she did, right?”

“I guess so,” he mumbles, turning his head into Peter’s neck, rubbing his face, imitating Peter’s scenting.

Peter takes a breath, glad Stiles can’t hear how his heart races. “And you had a few months together. Learning how to actually date a real, living girl. Learning about sex. What you like, what a woman likes.”

Stiles snorts against his neck and moves back a little, so he can look at Peter. “I guess so. Not sure if that’s transferable though.”

“Not completely, but certainly some is. As least you’ve lost that pesky virginity.” Peter smiles as Stiles’ scent turns a little sweeter; even if he’s not the reason, it still makes him happy.

“Yeah, kinda. I think it won’t be completely awful next time,” Stiles says into his neck.

Peter smirks and rubs his face against Stiles’ temple, “Oh, were you completely awful this time? Clumsy? No stamina? Jumping the gun, as they say?”

“Shut up, wolf, I did okay,” Stiles answers, slapping Peter’s shoulder and curling back up under his arm with a yawn.

“Do you think you can sleep now?” Peter asks him. “I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow morning.”

“Um hm,” Stiles says, and his breath starts to even out. “But maybe we can stay here for a minute? I’m comfortable.”

Peter moves a little, putting his feet up on the coffee table and guiding Stiles’ head down so the boy’s head is on his thigh. “Of course, Kitten. Go to sleep, things will look better in the morning.”

“I know, alpha. Thanks for taking care of me,” Stiles mutters and his next noise is a muffled snore.

Peter shuts his eyes and lets himself doze off, calmed by the sounds and scent of his sleeping omega.

 

  


 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets a new girl and she's an alpha. Scott updates Stiles on the latest Allison news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Malia here isn't a were-coyote, she's a human. And of course, she's not Peter's daughter. She's not going to be around for long, remember this is end-game Steter!

Stiles enters their house, gives a quick look around and doesn’t see Peter. He heads off to his room, and finds Peter in his office, head down studying some ancient text.

“Hey,” he says, flopping into the chair next to Peter’s desk. “You’re working kinda late.”

“Hmm, hello, Stiles,” Peter says, looking up from his book. He scrubs his eyes and yawns, blinking to let his eyes refocus. Checking his watch, he says, “Oh, it’s later than I thought. I haven’t planned anything for dinner; do you mind carryout?”

“Of course not, I’m always in the mood for carryout. What’re you working on so late?”

Peter holds up a book and says, “It’s supposed to be a history of a vampire family in Spain. I think it’s true. Or it’s a well written fiction. Either way, it’s pretty interesting.”

“Is there time for me to read it before it goes to its new home?” Stiles asks, carefully turning pages. “Or maybe not. When you said it’s from Spain, you meant it’s in Spanish. I’ll wait for the movie, I guess.”

“Well, you might have to wait a while,” Peter says, putting the book back down on his desk. He stretches and straightens up a bit while Stiles quietly watches.

“Hey, do you think you should have reading glasses? Maybe that would help with eye strain,” Stiles says as they leave the room.

“Werewolf, remember? Perfect vision,” Peter answers, flashing his eyes.

Stiles shrugs and says, “Just a thought, lots of people need reading glasses as they get older, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He looks serious, but Peter can smell his amusement.

“I’m not embarrassed, I just don’t need glasses. Did you get your history paper back,” he asks, pulling menus off the fridge and setting them on the counter.

Stiles grabs a couple, trying to decide what might be good and says, “Yeah, I got a B plus, a 90. He said that it was a good paper, but, and I quote ‘It’s a good paper, but don’t you think the history of capital punishment in the 20th century is a little grisly for an omega?’”

Peter slams the menus he’s looking at on the counter and his eyes flash again. “Your instructor said that? To you? Do you want me to kill him?”

“Peter, we’ve gone over this before. You can’t just kill everyone who’s a dick to me. At some point, people will notice.” Stiles pushes the menu for Thai over to Peter. “How about this?”

“Sure, the usual?” Peter asks, waiting for Stiles’ nod. He pulls out his phone and starts to type in their order. “So this so-called professor, I assume he’s an older alpha? With all those old-fashioned attitudes?”

“Obviously. Maybe my next paper should be on the history of knitting in the 20th century. Or something equally appropriate.” Stiles sighs and gets out plates and silverware. Peter hates the plastic utensils that come with carryout and tells the restaurants not to include them. It’s not necessarily an environmental thing, he just hates the artificial taste.

“Perhaps something like the history of omega rights in the 21st century,” Peter suggests, yawning. “I’m going back into the office for a few, call me when dinner’s here, please?”

“Sure. You okay?” Stiles asks. Peter normally doesn’t work in the evening and he looks like he needs a few more hours of sleep. It’s not very Peter.

“Yes, thanks for asking. I just have a few things to finish and I want to get to bed early tonight,” Peter says over his shoulder.

Stiles watches him walk down the hallway and go into his office. This needs to be watched, it’s all very odd.

 

Ten o’clock is about Stiles’ normal wake up time on a Saturday. No classes, so he can sleep in. Peter’s usually had a pot of coffee already and the second pot is sitting fresh and hot waiting for Stiles. It’s the one day they’re both on their own for breakfast, lunch and dinner, especially recently with Stiles meeting up with friends or dates.

This morning, Stiles comes out of his room, one hand scratching his hair and the other scratching his ass, honing in on the smell of fresh coffee. He stop short when he sees Peter at the kitchen table, head down, apparently asleep.

“Peter? Dude, are you okay?” he asks, keeping a few feet back. Never startle a sleeping werewolf is a well-known saying – at least in werewolf circles.

Peter snorts and raises his head, looking even more tired than he did the day before. “Hmm, sorry, dozed off. I’m fine.” He doesn’t look fine and Stiles should know, he’s seen him in a lot of bad situations, including on fire and freshly back from the dead.

Stiles pours himself a cup of coffee and sits at the table next to Peter. “You don’t look good; you look like you haven’t slept. What’s going on? Talk to the nice omega, he can help.”

“I’ve just been woken up every morning for the last few weeks but our dear neighbor’s music. Every morning, seven days a week at five a.m. I gather you don’t hear it? Lucky you, sweet omega.”

Stiles shrugs and says, “No, I don’t hear anything. What’s waking you up? Is it a werewolf thing?”

“No. Yes? It’s every day, including weekends. Five o’clock in the morning every day, for thirty minutes, it’s ‘Takin Care of Business’ over and over. Approximately eight times. Loud.” Peter sighs and takes a drink of his cold coffee.

“Hmm, so you don’t like seventies rock or you don’t like that song?” Stiles asks, trying not to grin, because Peter does look miserable. “You can’t go back to sleep? It’s only five-thirty when he’s done, right?”

“By that time, I’m wide awake. Maybe from being so pissed off, but I am awake. I don’t know why some other neighbors haven’t complained,” Peter says, putting his head back down on the table.

“Have you complained? Where is this coming from, I never hear anything,” Stiles says, moving Peter’s cold coffee away so he doesn’t spill it.

“I haven’t complained because I think I might kill someone if I go down there. It’s the floor below us, apartment 32,” he says.

Stiles snorts and looks towards the door, trying to determine where their apartment is compared to this one below them. “That’s the other end of the building. You can hear that?”

Peter just flashes his eyes, bright and blue.

“Yeah, that’s true. Poor you, you must be exhausted, I know you don’t go to bed very early.” Stiles reaches over and pets Peter on the head, gently smoothing his hair behind his ears.

The wolf shuts his eyes and sighs again, relaxing into Stiles’ touch. “I’ve been napping in the afternoon, which then means I end up working later into the evening. I might have to go kill them, and I know you’d hate that.”

Stiles nods, still petting Peter’s hair. “Yeah, being there’s no wild cougars around and it might be slightly suspicious if one tenant in a condo building was ripped limb from limb.” He stands and says, “Tell you what. You go back to bed and try to catch up on your sleep and after I shower, I’ll go down there and ask them to keep it down in the mornings, okay?”

Peter rises, yawning with just a few fangs poking through. “I should do that, I’m the alpha here.”

“Okay, let’s not be sexist here, I can do this for you. It doesn’t bother me, I can’t even hear it, but since you can’t be trusted to keep your temper,” he checks on Peter here and certainly the wolf is snarling. Yawning and snarling, but Peter tired is still scary. “It’s fine for me to go take care of this errand. Go back to bed.”

Kissing his forehead as he passes, Peter mumbles, “Good omega, best decision of my life.”

Stiles can’t help but preen just a little bit inside at Peter’s praise as he goes into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup and grab a packet of Pop-Tarts for breakfast. “Anything for my alpha,” he whispers, heading for his room.

 

Apartment 32 is quiet now, and Stiles takes a breath before he knocks on the door.

A girl about his age opens the door. She’s pretty with light brown hair and she’s wearing a plaid flannel shirt and, in spite of the cold weather, denim shorts. She stares at him for a moment and then says, “What?”

“Hi,” he says, scratching his ear, surprised that it’s a girl blaring 70’s rock. Also, she’s cute. “Um, I’m a neighbor and I live upstairs.” He points upwards, in the general direction of the apartment and smiles.

She doesn’t smile back, just shrugs.

“Anyway, uh, I wanted to ask if you could turn down your music in the morning? While BTO is awesome, it’s really early and really loud and it wakes up my roommate.” It’s unnerving, how she just looks at him without any expression.

“That’s my roommate, Jason,” she says flatly. “My soon-to-be-ex roommate. He’s an asshole; I never should have let him move in. Everyone’s been complaining, I’ve been complaining and now our landlord says he has to move out. Originally he said we both had to move out, but he agreed to give me a chance if the asshole moved out.”

“Oh! Oh, that’s great,” Stiles exclaims, smiling broadly, nodding as she talks. “Well, not great that your roommate is an asshole, but great that he’s moving out. I guess you’ll enjoy the quiet as well.”

“Yeah, well, that should solve your problem, then.” Suddenly a buzzer rings behind her and she glances over her shoulder and orders, “Just a minute. Stay right here.”

Stiles stands with his jaw dropped. _That was an alpha command. This woman just gave me an alpha command!_

She’s back in less than a minute and says, “Sorry, oven timer. I’m making a pizza for lunch.”

He nods, relaxing at her half smile, taking a sniff. “Smells good,” he says, not knowing what else he should say. That and it does smell good. And did he mention the part about her being cute?

She stares for a minute and finally says, “Do you want to come in? Have some pizza?” She takes a step back and says, “If your alpha won’t mind.”

“My alpha is a family friend, he’s not like my alpha-alpha,” Stiles explains, feeling his cheeks color. He hates having to talk about this like it’s normal to explain why you’re allowed to eat with someone. “If you want, I’d like to come in, sure.”

She smiles, finally (finally), and says, “I’m Malia. Nice to meet you…”

“Stiles,” he answers, smiling back. “It’s good to meet you, too, Malia.”

 

The pizza’s good, a frozen one, and Malia’s added a ton of bacon, sausage and even a few vegetables.

“So your alpha is the one who was bothered by the music? And he didn’t come down here himself?” Malia grabs another slice of pizza and pushes the six-pack of cola towards Stiles. They’re eating in the small dining area on a table that fits two plates, the pizza and not much more. It’s next to the crowded living room, right off the kitchen. This is probably the apartment Stiles would be in, if he wasn’t living with Peter.

“He would have, but I told him I’d do it.” Stiles shrugs, hoping he looks nonchalant. “He gets a little cranky when he’s tired and since I’m a bundle of charm…”

Malia snorts and says, “Yeah, I guess you are. I think I’ve seen you on campus. What are you studying?”

“It’s my first year, so some general stuff, you know? And I think I’m going to major in sociology. Maybe.” He shrugs again, a little uncomfortable at the direct way she looks at him. It’s not necessarily an alpha thing, it might be a Malia thing. “I’m planning a career in law enforcement; I’m not quite sure what yet, but something there. Kind of depends on what’s allowed, you know?”

“You want a career? That’s good, I guess.” She eats more pizza, studying him like he’s something she’s never seen. “I never thought about my omega wanting a career, especially not in law enforcement. Don’t most want to be a parent?”

“Well, I’m hoping that eventually I can do both. Eventually, a long, long time in the future,” Stiles says. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to check the text. “Sorry, I need to get this…”

Malia watches him, saying nothing.

“It’s Peter, my roommate. ‘Are you okay, you’ve been gone a while. Do I need to come kill someone?’” he reads and tells Malia what he’s typing, “I’m fine, having pizza with Malia, the quiet roommate. Back soon.” He shuts off his phone, putting it back in his pocket. Reaching for another slice of pizza, he says, “So tell me about yourself, Malia. What do you like to do?”

 

Peter’s in his office a couple of hours later, trying to track down the diary of an emissary killed when hunters wiped out their entire pack. Rumor says the emissary had powers and the attack was supposed to kill her specifically. He could easily find a buyer, or it may be a birthday gift for Stiles.

“Hey, wolfman,” Stiles says, plopping down in the chair next to Peter’s desk. He’s smiling and smells of garlic, excitement and happiness. And another alpha.

Peter leans over and sniffs him, knowing it’s something that annoys his boy. “Welcome home, Kitten. Did you have a nice lunch?”

“Yeah, it was good. Oh, the loud person is moving out – being kicked out, actually, you’re not the only one annoyed by too much BTO, apparently. And I met this girl named Malia, who lives there and hates the loud guy. She goes to Davis and she’s studying engineering and she’s pretty cool. Actually,” he pauses for a minute and looks at Peter. “Huh, I may have a type; she kind of reminds me of you.”

“She’s stunningly attractive, rich and personable?” Peter asks. He reaches over and cups the back of Stiles’ head, not even pretending that it’s anything other than leaving his scent on him.

Stiles ducks his head, so Peter can scratch his fingers through Stiles’ hair for a nice scalp massage. “She’s really cute, she’s a broke college student, and she’s kind of an asshole. I think it’s the last part that reminds me of you.”

“And my mornings will be quiet? That’s what counts.”

“Yeah. Maybe not tomorrow, I don’t think he’s moving out until the weekend. And since he’s not going voluntarily, he may be a dick for a few more days. But still, no killing.” Stiles stands and stretches, rubbing his stomach. “Well, I did my good deed for the week. Now I’m going to go do some reading that I should have done yesterday.”

“Thank you for going and talking with her, Stiles. I’m sorry, I should have done that,” Peter says, and Stiles can see he’s being honest, no sarcasm or snark. “I think…I think I wasn’t sure how to talk with someone so young, but someone I couldn’t threaten. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Peter, I’m happy I was able to do something for you. Even though it wasn’t a big deal, at least not to me.” He smiles and Peter gets a whiff of attraction and optimism. “Did I mention Malia’s pretty and I think she doesn’t hate me. She’s on the soccer team and they have a game on Sunday. I’m thinking I might go.”

Peter gives him a bland look and says, “Hmm. Your meet is Saturday, right? I was planning on going to that. Do I have to start going to soccer games, too?”

Stiles sits back down and turns Peter’s face to his. “No, you don’t have to go to her soccer games. But if we start going out, I’d like it if you could be okay with it. She’s an alpha. Will you be okay with that? You said you would be.”

The wolf turns his head slightly to rub his face in Stiles’ hand. Stiles knows it’s a wolf thing, not an alpha thing and somehow that makes the possessive gesture okay. “Yes, Stiles, I’ll be fine. As long as she’s good to you and you’re happy, I’ll be fine with whoever you end up with.” He flashes his eyes at Stiles and lets out a small growl. “Of course if it gets serious, we’ll need to vet her before she gets involved with the pack.”

“Hey, you’re jumping ahead. Way ahead. We ate pizza and I’ll go watch her game. And maybe we’ll go for some food afterwards.” He sighs loudly and says, “You’re okay, then?”

“Obviously. You should have fun, college isn’t all about studying,” Peter says. “And for now, I have a bit of work to do.”

“Anything I can help with?” Stiles asks, moving so he can look over Peter’s shoulder. “Gimme something to research.”

Peter sighs as though he’s being horribly put out, but he pushes some papers towards Stiles with a smile. “Here, read these and tell me what you think.”

“Yes! Homework avoidance!” he cackles, settling back down in the chair and grabbing the emails Peter offered. “Okay, let’s see what we can see.”

 

“Dude!” Scott yells over their skype connection. “You need to talk with me, I’m freaking out!”

“What’s wrong? Is there something…” Stiles trails off, feeling his chest tighten thinking about what could have Scott so panicked, and immediately thinking of his father back home.

“Whoa, no, it’s not like – that stuff,” Scott answers, sitting down on his couch in his tiny dorm room in Berkeley. “It’s Allison. She’s visiting her Dad back home and I’m freaking out.”

Stiles slumps on his bed, pulling his laptop closer. “Yeah, well an Allison emergency isn’t anything new, is it? You always have Allison emergencies. Maybe _I_ have a girl emergency, did you ever think of that?”

“Do you?” Scott asks, shoving a handful of cheese puffs into his mouth and licking the sticky powder from his fingers. “You have a new girl you like?”

“Maybe?” Stiles says, shrugging. He leans over and grabs his cup of iced coffee, taking a long drink. He keeps it close and chews on the straw for a second before he continues, “I met a girl this week, her name’s Malia. She’s really cute and she’s got kind of the same sense of humor that I do. And she’s an alpha.”

Scott nods, looking thoughtful for a second, or as thoughtful as he can look with neon orange crumbs in the corners of his mouth. “Wow, I didn’t think you were thinking about doing the alpha-omega thing. I mean, not with someone you’re dating.”

“I wasn’t trying to, she just is one.” He rubs his lips and says, “I wasn’t looking for an alpha, but thinking about what Serena said made me think. And I _do_ feel calmer around Peter, so figured I’d try it.”

“Speaking of, how’s he enjoying this development?” Scott asks. He rubs the crumbs from his mouth and then wipes his hand on his pants before pushing more puffs into his mouth.

“He’s okay with it,” Stiles answers, shrugging as he glances towards his bedroom door. Peter’s out, doing some kind of business thing. Or that’s what he said, he tends to be out when Scott and Stiles do their weekly Sunday night call. “We’ve only gone out once, just for a quick dinner tonight. He hasn’t met her yet or anything.”

“This is the first alpha you’ve gone out with, right?”

Stiles nods, amazed that Scott actually remembers. He chews on his straw again as he finishes the coffee. “Yeah. I don’t know if it’s an alpha thing or a Malia thing, but she’s kind of pushy. And I think I kind of like it.”

“Well, you must like pushy people, you’re living with Peter.” Scott wipes his hands, this time on the arm of the sofa and says, “You know, he’s not going to be thrilled with this. I mean…I think he likes you. Like likes you likes you.”

“He doesn’t, not really. Not like that,” Stiles says, snorting. “Sure, we’re good friends now and I think we trust each other. But the rest of it is the built in gender stuff; he’s an alpha, it’s hard wired.”

Scott snorts and chuckles, saying, “Yeah, he’s hard!”

Stiles’ jaw drops and he points to the screen. “Scott, you did not! You don’t make rude jokes. Dude I am so proud of you!” He stops grinning and shakes his head. “But it’s not like that.”

“Just calling it like I see it. He’s always liked you and he’s always favored you. No one ever said anything or minded because…” Scott shrugs and looks away briefly. “Well… you’re human and you need everyone looking out for you. And if no one trusted Peter with much of anything else, we all knew he has a soft spot for you and won’t let you get hurt.”

“He respects me at least a little and the rest is all alpha instincts, that’s all.” Stiles leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. Scott’s raised eyebrow makes him think about how defensive he looks and changes it to scratching his arm.

“Okay, you’re there, so I’m sure you have a clearer picture than I do.” Scott rubs a hand through his hair and uses his tongue to scrape some of the orange goop off his teeth. “So now can I tell you about Allison?”

“Sure, go ahead, Scotty. So what’s going on that made Allison run for the hills?”

“She’s going back to talk with her dad. About us.” Scott takes a deep breath and sets his jaw. “She’s going to tell him that we’re a couple.”

“Okaaay,” Stiles says slowly. “Is that news to him? He knows you two have been dating, right?”

“Well, kinda. He knows we were and he knows we’re both at school together, but he’s really been pushing Allison to date an omega. You know – to do the respectable thing.” Scott stops and his eyes go wide, and he says, “Not that that’s a problem or that there’s something wrong with it, but…”

Stiles waves his words away and says, “Bro, I know. It’s about the choice. Ally should get to decide if she wants to do the traditional thing or date a loser like you. And clearly she’s chosen your funny face.”

Scott gives a one-sided grin, emphasizing his lopsided jaw. “Yeah, she chose me! And she’s telling her dad that we’re getting married so he can stop trying to fix her up with omegas.”

“Married? You’re getting married?” Stiles asks, sitting up and pulling the screen closer. “You can’t be getting married, you’re just a baby! You’re both babies!”

“Not right now, idiot. But after college. But she’s going to tell him that we’re kind of like engaged or pre-engaged and he can stop having omegas calling her and saying, ‘Hi, your dad said I should call you’ which he does. And it’s annoying as hell,” Scott finishes and he must be annoyed, his eyes flash bright yellow.

“Whoa, don’t get mad, Scotty, I’m sure he’s only trying to help,” Stiles says, unsure why he’s suddenly defending Chris Argent.

“I’m sure, but still it’s annoying. Because Allison doesn’t want it.” Scott snorts and shakes his head, “Heck, Stiles, he was suggesting that you would be a good match for Allison!”

“Me?” Stiles squeaks, then coughs, hand over his mouth. “Me?” he says again, nose wrinkling at the very thought of dating Allison. “Dude, no. I mean, even if you weren’t dating her, it would still be like…like dating my sister or something.”

Scott nods vigorously. “I know, of course! Ally feels the same way! She loves you, dude, but not like that!”

“Good, so we’re both happy with that. All three of us are happy with that. Only Chris will apparently be unhappy with that.”

“He’ll have to deal,” Scott says, shrugging. He’s got a grin on his face and says, “Because my alpha says she’s gonna marry me as soon as we graduate.”

“Good, something to keep you on course,” Stiles says. He checks the time on his screen and it’s when Peter normally comes back Sunday evenings. “Glad you at least decided to wait until after you graduate.”

“Hey, who knows?” Scott says, “Maybe by that time, you’ll have an alpha, too, to marry!”

“Yeah, doubtful. I hope to wait a bit, maybe have a career started.” He grins, too and says, “Maybe even be in love with one of them!”

“Peter’ll make an honest man of you yet,” Scott replies, grinning, showing Stiles a mouthful of orange-stained teeth.

“You’re an idiot, I told you,it’s not like that,” Stiles answers. “Go brush your teeth and call your girlfriend. Give her kisses from me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Text me about your next date with alpha-girl,” Scott tells him, wiping his orange lips with the back of his hand.

“Talk with you next week, Scott.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter helps Stiles and Malia with their relationship, in his special way.

Peter’s trying to get used to having Malia over and in his space. Partially, it’s an alpha thing, partially a wolf thing. He’s generally okay with other alphas; after all, he had no problem around Derek. But Malia is much more aggressively an alpha than any of the Hales ever were. Hopefully it’s something she’ll grow out of, as she gets more confident with herself and the world, but for now, Peter has to deal with it.

As far as his wolf goes, he tries not to worry too much about that. She’s just a human, and as pushy as she is, she does seem to understand at least a little about not being too intrusive in his den.

So the noises in the kitchen at 2 a.m. are surprising and he feels justified in pulling on some clothes and going out to investigate.

Malia’s in the kitchen, hair disheveled, wearing a tank top and boxer shorts. Stiles or hers, Peter isn’t sure, they both smell so much the same. She’s got a death grip on the kitchen sink as she fills a glass, muttering something to herself.

He’s about to ask if there’s anything he can help with when Stiles stumbles down the hall, hopping on one foot as he tugs on his sweatpants.

“Malia, come on, come back to the bed room. Don’t just storm off, let’s talk about it,” he implores. He catches Peter’s eye and the wolf just raises an eyebrow, sitting on the arm of the couch to watch the show.

Malia turns to him with fire in her eyes. “Stiles! I can’t believe you even suggested that. That’s not going to happen, not ever. So just get it out of your mind.”

“It’s perfectly normal, Malia, it’s not even anything weird,” he says, stepping closer to her and taking her hands, which are balled into fists. He bends down so he can look at her in the eyes and says, “Come on, let’s talk about it. After all, this isn’t 1920 or something.”

She jerks away, turning back to the sink and Peter can hear that she’s practically growling.

He clears his throat and says, “Perhaps this is something I can help with. I am slightly older than both of you and maybe my experience may be of some use?”

Malia turns and looks at him, and huffs out a sigh, shaking her head and looking back down into the sink, visibly trying to calm down.

“Stiles? Do you want to talk?” Peter asks, trying to keep a grin off his face. Kids today.

“Well…” he glances over at Malia, but she still has her back turned to him. “I suggested something perfectly normal – something sexual – and apparently I offended Malia.”

She whips around and snarls. “Alphas don’t do that, Stiles. And omegas aren’t supposed to want that. It’s not natural,” she states, looking back and forth between Peter and Stiles. As though Peter’s going to agree, which isn’t likely no matter what Stiles has suggested. He’ll always back Stiles.

“What do you mean, not natural?” Stiles says, and there’s a small amount of flailing before he takes a breath and tries again. “Tell me what’s not natural with two people who like each other? I have a penis and a vagina. You have a penis and a vagina. Seems like everything can fit in everywhere…”

Malia moves away from the sink and moves closer to Stiles. She keeps her voice quiet and even, and says, “But I’m an alpha. And…” She pauses and looks over to Peter, who tries to look only politely interested. Stiles probably knows he’s laughing hysterically inside, but that’s for the omega to know. “Alphas don’t get penetrated. It’s just not…” She looks at Peter and shrugs, asking, “Right? That’s right, isn’t it?”

He briefly thinks about agreeing with her, just to be ornery, but he can’t do that to Stiles. Or to any omegas she’s with in the future. “I don’t think that’s a rule, Malia. There really aren’t any rules between couples, you’re completely free to experiment. Try things out, determine what you like and _then_ toss out things you’re not comfortable with.” He stops when Malia frowns, brows drawn together. “You don’t _have_ to do everything or things you’re uncomfortable with, but relationships work better when you listen to each other. And try to compromise.”

“I want to try,” she says to Stiles. “Especially because it’s important to you. For some reason.” She turns to Peter and asks, “It would be okay with you? If it were you and you had…the parts?

 _Kids_ , he thinks again. “I was married to a female omega, so we didn’t have all the options that you two have. There wasn’t any real penetration,” he stops and looks at his hand, wiggling his fingers. Hearing Stiles’ loud swallow he tries not to smile at the sudden rush of lust scenting the air. “Mostly. But we certainly tried everything we could think of.”

She nods and hold out her hand to Stiles and says, “We’ll talk, okay? Maybe we can…work up to it?”

“Sure, whatever you need. Thanks for considering it, Mal,” Stiles says. He looks over to Peter and mouths “thank you” before he takes her hand and they start back down the hallway.

“Of course, after Tricia was killed, I have found that I enjoy a cock up my ass occasionally,” Peter says, just loud enough to be heard.

Malia’s scent is shocked and Stiles… Oh, Stiles is _lust-interest-longing_ and there’s waves of omega pheromones coming off him.

“My god, Stiles, don’t even think about it,” Malia says from behind their closed bedroom door.

“We could experiment, I mean…” he answers.

Peter laughs as he goes back to his room and tries not to listen for the rest of the night.

 

One weekday night, Stiles flops down on the couch next to Peter, huge smile on his face. He shoves his phone at Peter and says, “Look. What d’ya think of that?”

Peter puts down his book and looks at the picture and raises an eyebrow. “It’s a dismembered hand? Lovely, thanks for sharing.”

“Smart ass,” Stiles responds, shoving the phone closer to the alpha’s face. “Look again. Left hand. Focus on the ring finger. On the ring on the ring finger.”

“Hmm.” Peter increases the size of the picture and holds it closer to his face. “You know, if that were bigger, it would look like an engagement ring.”

“Again, you’re a smart ass. It’s a pre-engagement ring. Allison and Scott are engaged to be engaged and as soon as they’re out of college, they’re going to tie the proverbial knot. Knot,” he says, smirking. Stiles takes the phone back and looks at the picture some more, leaning against Peter’s side. “I can’t believe that someone I know is enough of an adult to get married!”

Peter nuzzles into Stiles’ hair and says, “I’m sure her father can’t believe it either. I wonder what he’s more concerned with: that she’s marrying a werewolf or a beta?”

“Oh, the beta bit is worse, I think,” he says, leaning back to look at Peter. “I think he really expected that when Ally bloomed as an alpha, he’d get a nice little omega spouse.”

“And did your friend get permission from _his_ alpha to take a mate?” Peter asks, with the haughtiest tone possible.

“Yes, he did,” Stiles sing songs back to him. “And Derek of course was quite positive about it. Or as positive as Derek gets when the subject is love. Or romance. Or happiness. Or you know, human emotions.”

Peter snorts quietly and concurs, “He’s a bit of a skeptic, what can I say? Catch your family on fire one time and it tends to shape your views.” He rubs his cheek against Stiles head, both to calm himself and to reassure the omega that he’s fine. An omega in the house is more relaxing than any herbal tea or meditation.

“Guess so,” Stiles says, looking at the picture one more time before he slips the phone under his leg. “It’s nice though; officially adding to the pack. Actually I wasn’t sure Derek would be okay with it.”

“It is nice, I’m sure. It’s a shame that there won’t be any children with the match though.”

“No, guess not. But the two of them will be happy.”

Peter grins and says, “Perhaps you’ll bring children to the pack, someday.”

“Maybe,” Stiles answers quietly and his smell turns sour.

“Maybe not,” Peter says quickly, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ shoulder. “It’s up to you, of course. You weren’t put on earth to breed for the Hales or for anyone else.”

Stiles leans back into Peter and takes a breath, shutting his eyes and melting into the alpha’s side. “Okay. As long as you promise to keep me.”

 

“How are things going? Malia hasn’t been over lately.” Peter puts the pan of lasagna on the table, next to a bowl of hot garlic bread. It’s been a few weeks since he’s been able to make dinner for Stiles and he’s pulled out all the stops, with Stiles’ favorite things, full of cheese and starch.

“No, we’ve been hanging out at her place more often. It makes her more comfortable,” Stiles says, talking around a piece of garlic bread. He serves Peter a square of lasagna first and then puts an equal size piece on his own plate.

“And you’re good with that? You know you’re always welcome here,” Peter says carefully, making sure his tone is neutral. He doesn’t want Stiles to hear it as an order.

Stiles keeps his eyes on his plate and says, “It’s good. She doesn’t have a roommate yet and so it’s probably better that we’re out of your hair.”

Even when an omega isn’t in heat, they tend to be more comfortable in their own area, with their things around them, buried in their scent. Their alpha will overlay their own scent on the omega’s, but an omega needs their own space. This is one of the reasons Peter’s always been careful not to spend too much time in Stiles’ room.

It’s up to the alpha to provide a safe, secure place, but up to the omega to make it their home.

“You’re never an imposition, you know that, I hope,” Peter says quietly, sipping his wine. “This is your home as much and as long as you want it to be.”

“I know,” Stiles says. He looks up and meets Peter’s eyes. “This is my home. I’m happy here and feel safe. Thank you for that.”

“But…”

Stiles shrugs and says, “Malia feels like this is your place. She even called it your den.” He runs a hand through his hair and says, “She’s more comfortable with me in her place. And I’m making it feel more comfortable. It is weird though…”

“Anything I can help with?” Peter asks. Dinner’s temporarily forgotten, both just sipping from their wine glasses.

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for talking with her – with us – about our sex life. I’m sure it was pretty awkward, but it helped.”

Peter tops off Stiles’ glass and nods. “You’re welcome, of course. I’m glad if it helped.”

“It did,” Stiles assures him. “That’s better at least.”

Peter has an internal debate for a moment – pry for what’s happening and offer an opinion or wait and talk if Stiles wants to. Not a hard decision at all. “What parts aren’t good? Can I help?”

“I dunno,” Stiles says. He reaches for a piece of garlic bread, picking it apart as he talks. “It just…It doesn’t feel easy, you know? Even though we don’t actually fight a lot, it feels like things are tense a lot.”

“About what?”

Stiles shrugs and takes a bite of the buttery side of the bread. “Like yesterday, I was saying I was going to take a chemistry class. If I end up doing any kind of lab job for the police, I’d need that.” He snorts and says, “Since I can’t be an actual cop, and apparently I can be a lab rat. So I told Malia about that and she starts asking if there wasn’t something else I should think about if I have to have a career -- like being a teacher.”

“I guess she doesn’t know you’ve wanted to work in law enforcement since childhood,” Peter says, pulling the shredded bread out of Stiles’ hand and giving him another piece. One with more cheese.

“Maybe not, but why can’t she trust me? Nothing against teachers, but I don’t want to be a teacher!” he exclaims, slamming the bread back onto his plate.

Peter takes a breath and debates what to say next. He doesn’t want to push Stiles at all, but he hates seeing the boy so unhappy. “Stiles, do you think this is a good relationship for either of you? You’re not happy with her trying to change you. She can’t be happy with you being so different than the omega she’s looking for. Are either of you getting anything out of this?  Other than maybe the sex? And even that seems like a challenge.”

Stiles clasps his hands together and sits quietly, picking at a cuticle with his thumb as he thinks. “You’re right, of course you are. I’m not sure why we’re still together. I mean, I like some of the things about being with her, you know. It’s nice to have someone to study with and go out to dinner with.”

“Of course,” Peter says, nodding.

“But you’re right. We’re not good for each other, not really. I’m not falling in love with her and I frustrate her and…” Stiles stops and takes a deep breath. “You know what, Peter? I’m going to break up with her!”

“Okay, if you think that’s best,” the wolf says mildly. “When do you plan to do this? I can leave for a while if you’d like. Or perhaps I should just go into my room, so you have privacy, but I’m here in case…”

Stiles holds up his hands, “No, no not here. If I breakup with her here, then I have to trust that she’ll leave. If I go to her apartment, then I can break up with her and then leave.”

“When do you plan to do this?” Peter asks. Dinner’s clearly over, so he takes the dishes and carries everything into the kitchen. Dishes can be done later. He refills both of their wine glasses, hands Stiles’ back to him and sits back down at the dining room table.

“Tonight. While I’ve got my nerve up,” Stiles says and quickly downs the rest of his wine.

Peter gestures to the empty glass and asks, “You’re sure that’s a good idea tonight? I’m not trying to talk you out of it, but…”

“No, this is good. Liquid courage,” Stiles says, with a sharp nod. “I’m just gonna go and, I dunno, change my shirt? Brush my teeth? Yeah, I’ll do that and go talk with her.”

“If you need me, just yell my name and I’ll be there in a flash,” Peter says, giving a very toothy smile.

Stiles shoots finger guns at Peter and says, “Absolutely, but I think I can handle this on my own. I’m going to break up with someone who willingly has sex with me. Watch this omega go.”

 

Of course Peter plans to wait up. Both because he needs to listen for Stiles’ call for help and to make sure he’s okay when he comes home. He settles into his spot on the sofa, doing some online research for a book a repeat client’s requested. He’s about an hour into his research, when the apartment door bursts open and Stiles falls inside.

“That was fast,” Peter comments, looking at his watch. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles says, throwing himself on the couch next to Peter, putting Peter’s tablet on the table. “Went fine, no big deal apparently.” He leans his head on Peter’s shoulder and sighs dramatically. “I told her I thought we should talk and she said okay. I told her that I thought neither of us were particularly happy and she agreed. I said I thought we should break up and just be friends and she said she already has friends. And she agreed, we should break up.”

Peter rubs his face into Stiles’ hair, something to comfort both of them. Stiles scent is exhausted and disappointed. “That sounds better than you expected, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I didn’t expect tears, certainly. But I guess I wanted…”

“A little bit of regret or fighting to keep you?” Peter guesses, moving his arm so Stiles can lean against his chest.

He nods and Peter can feel the boy shrug. “Something. Am I that easy to break up with?”

“No, you’d be very difficult to be without. She just wasn’t the right one for you,” Peter says quietly as he pets Stiles’ back. “She may be an alpha, but she wasn’t the right one for you.”

“You’re right, Peter,” Stiles says, pushing himself so they’re face-to-face. “That’s it, I think I was expecting that because she’s an alpha, we’d automatically be good together, we’d just automatically click. But she’s just not the right one for me.”

“True. Not all alphas are the same. She needs an omega that matches her expectations, just as you need someone who is a good match for you. Someone who lets you be yourself.”

Stiles nods and stands, lost in thought. “Yeah, that’s it,” he says, smiling down at Peter. “Know what I’m going to do? You know that guy I talked about at the coffee shop? The one who’s always giving me free coffees and food?” He waits until Peter nods and continues, “He kept on giving me stuff and Malia hated it. Which pretty much made him laugh behind her back. But he likes me, I think I’m the only one he gives free stuff to. I’m going to ask him out. Tomorrow, I’ll get my free coffee and ask Theo out.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles starts dating Theo. Peter and Derek have a chat. And Stiles and Peter have half a chat.

Peter hates Theo.  He hates everything about him, with the heat of a thousand suns. He’s attractive, smart and moderately funny - although certainly not nearly as funny as he thinks he is.

He’s polite to Peter, respectful when he’s in Peter’s house, which is way too often. He lives in a frat house with a dozen other students and Stiles divides his time between Theo’s frat house and his actual home.

 

“Of course you hate him,” Derek tells him, and Peter can hear the amusement in his voice. “He’s like a younger version of you. Maybe a little douchier and a little less murderous, but from what you and Stiles have said, he’s like college you.”

Peter snorts and looks at the phone, hoping Derek can feel the death rays he’s projecting. “I was _never_ that much of a dick,” he states. “And we are nothing alike, other than both being alphas.”

“He’s got family money, people think he’s hot, and he’s superficially charming. Sounds kind of like you; you should be sure he’s not a hidden sociopath,” Derek says and he’s almost chuckling. “Oh, and Stiles likes him. He probably likes all the sex, too. Hours and hours of frat boy sex all over the house and…”

“Shut up, Derek,” Peter snaps. “I know they’re having sex; it’s not like Stiles doesn’t reek of it constantly.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” Derek asks. “You could, if you had any balls, tell Stiles how you feel. That you want a real relationship, not to continue playing house like you’ve been doing.”

Peter glares at his phone, not sure if he’s happy or not that Derek can’t see him. Derek’s a total Luddite and he’d probably still have a flip-phone if Peter didn’t buy him new ones for Christmas.

“It’s not like that,” Peter states, sighing loudly. “He doesn’t feel that way about me. And you know that as well as I do.”

Derek snorts and says, “What I know is when you were here visiting over the holidays, Stiles was practically sitting on your lap.”

“He was upset about leaving, about missing his father and worrying about his obligations back here,” Peter explains patiently. Derek reads too much into things. “He doesn’t think of me like that. It’s more like… I’m Bruce Wayne and he’s Dick Grayson. Not super heroes, just the regular people.”

Derek snorts again and louder this time. “I’ll believe that, Peter, because they totally wanted to bang. You should talk with him.”

“If anything were to happen – not that I’m expecting it to – you’d be okay with us in your pack?”

“Would I be okay with a happy, mated couple in the pack? Yeah, I think I could get behind that.”

“You’re an ass,” Peter states, just because he can. Derek may be the alpha, but he’s still Peter’s snot-nosed nephew.

“Talk with you later,” Derek answers and hangs up on Peter.

 

When Peter needs to take a trip to LA to meet with a new source, Stiles seems a little concerned. While he’s spent nights away, Peter hasn’t been gone too often. They’ve taken trips together before, to Beacon Hills and other places close by, but this is the first time Peter’s going away on his own – without Stiles.

“Hey, party at Stiles’ house!” Theo crows when he finds out.

Peter gives him a look that even without fangs and glowing blue eyes should scare any intelligent person. Peter’s not sure if Theo’s scared.

“No, let’s not think about parties,” Stiles tells him, wrapping his hand around Theo’s arm, pulling him back from Peter’s glare. “But maybe you can stay over and I’ll make you dinner or something.”

Theo smile at Stiles, reminding Peter of an animal looking at prey. A jackal perhaps, not a wolf. “Dinner _and_ something,” he says with a leer.

Peter thinks he may look forward to some time away.

 

Los Angeles is good, the weather is warm and his new contact seems like he’ll be an asset. Evan’s an attractive man around Peter’s age who smells faintly of magic. They eat in too expensive restaurants and afterwards have drinks in too expensive bars. There’s a little flirting in both directions. At the end of two days, there’s promises to talk soon. After all of it, Peter can only think of how much he wants to go home.

 

“Hey, Peter, what’cha doing?” Stiles asks, dropping on the couch next to Peter. Between school and Theo, they haven’t spent much time together and Peter doesn’t want to think about how much he welcomes this.

“Nothing much, Kitten. Are you in for the night?” _That’s not too desperate, is it?_

Stiles nods, and lies back, resting his head in Peter’s lap, feet hanging over the arm of the sofa. “This okay?” he asks, smelling _happy-smug_.

“It’ll do,” Peter tells him, dropping his hand to Stiles’ chest. “So where’s lover boy tonight?”

“Theo’s working at the coffee shop tonight. Which is good, I should study. I’ll do that in a bit.” Stiles shuts his eyes and stretches a little, wiggling as he relaxes completely on Peter’s legs.

“You two doing okay?” he asks. ‘ _No’ is a completely valid answer_.

“Yeah, sure. You know, for what it is, it’s good,” Stiles replies, not opening his eyes.

Peter studies his face, noting the little crease between his brows, and his smell souring slightly. “I’m not sure I do know what it is.”

Stiles opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling for a long moment. “I mean, it’s fun, you know. We’re having fun. He’s a popular guy, in a popular fraternity. Handsome, lots of bros, and has money. What’s not to like?”

“Okay, I can see that. But…” he drags out the last word, waiting for Stiles to fill in the blank.

He shrugs and says, “But it’s fluff, you know. And I know it. And most of the time, I’m okay with it, that we’re basically fuck-buddies.” He stops and Peter knows Stiles is studying him to see what he thinks of the crude comment. “And like I said, I’m usually okay with it. I mean Scott is engaged. He’s 19 and he’s _engaged_ and has the rest of his life planned out. I don’t think I’m there yet.”

“You don’t need to be; you’re young still, you have time to decide,” Peter answers. _Theo’s not the one, this is good._

Stiles sits up and turns, sitting cross legged, looking at Peter. “But sometimes, I envy that about Scott. He knows that Allison is the one – don’t wrinkle your nose – and they’re working towards that. Maybe I’m not because the people I’m around are generally goofy kids doing goofy things. Except Malia, she knows what she wants and she’s focused on that.”

“She is focused,” Peter acknowledges with a nod. _Dear god, do not bring that woman-child back._

“And I think I do want what Scott’s getting and what Malia wants; I want a partner and a life together with someone. And maybe I’m only 19, but I feel older, you know. I think…I think I missed part of being a kid. I had to grow up fast, you know, after Mom died.”

Peter squeezes Stiles’ hand for a second as the boy’s scent turns sad for a moment, before it goes back to _happy-anxious_. His heart beat’s fast, but steady. “Too fast,” Peter agrees.

“Well, it is what it is, can’t change history, you know that,” Stiles says, shrugging again. “And maybe it’s just the people around me, like Theo, feel young, immature.” He moves, kneeling on the couch next to Peter, keeping eye contact and smiling just a bit. “Maybe I need to stop looking at kids and look at someone who’s more mature, you know?”

Stiles’ eyes are warm and brown and Peter thinks there’s little flecks the color of cognac. Why hasn’t he seen that before? Probably because he never really let himself look. “I think that’s…”

Theo’s ring tone interrupts them, making Stiles jump. He looks at it and says, “Sorry, I guess I should… I’m sorry, Peter.”

He moves off the couch and into the kitchen, which isn’t really private at all, and answers the phone, “Hey, Theo, how’s work going? You decided to skip it? Yeah, I know you don’t need the money, but it’s kind of fucking up someone else’s…” He takes a breath and scratches his neck, glancing over at Peter’s. “Sure, pick me up in ten? ‘Kay, see you.”

“Change in plans?” Peter asks, glad that Stiles isn’t able to hear his heart beat or read his emotions through his smell.

“Yeah, he decided to bail on his shift. Benefit of having money, I guess,” Stiles answers, looking everywhere except at Peter. His scent’s _embarrassed-regret_ and Peter’s not sure what that’s about. Hopefully not about what they were talking – almost talking - about.

“Well, go have some immature, frat-boy fun then,” Peter says, with a smile that he hopes looks more sincere than he feels.

Stiles sighs and Peter sees how he steadies himself, something he’s seen many times before. “I’m gonna go change my shirt, I guess. Thanks for listening to me ramble. Maybe we’ll talk more later?”

“Anytime you want to, Stiles. I’m here.”

 

Theo doesn’t come in, which is fine with Peter. He texts Stiles when he’s outside and the boy leaves, giving Peter a quick squeeze on the shoulder before he goes.

He’s not back until late the next afternoon, with Theo in tow. They vanish into Stiles’ room, but it sounds like video games and a feeble attempt at studying. At least Peter doesn’t have to hear anything else he’d rather not be privy to.

At dinner time, Theo says that it’s his turn to pay, but somehow his credit card doesn’t make an appearance when Peter orders pizzas to be delivered. He doesn’t leave until Stiles kicks him out, telling him they both have morning classes the next day.

 

Things continue as they were and Peter and Stiles never finish the conversation they started.

 

Peter gets out of the shower, deciding what to do for the day. He’s already had a long run and grabbed breakfast on the way back. There’s a couple of projects he could work on, it just depends on if he wants instant gratification or if he should start research for a request that will take a while to complete – but that one does involve Evan in Los Angeles, which has some appeal.

He’ll probably work on that, he decides. Then his phone rings, and Stiles’ name pops up. He was gone last night, spending more time at Theo’s.

“Peter?” Stiles voice is raspy and Peter can hear his heart beating, quick and fearful even over the phone.

Peter feels his claws lengthen, ready to protect him from whatever the threat is. “Stiles, I’m here, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I… I made a mistake and I need help. Please…”

“Where are you, Kitten? I’ll come get you.” Peter grabs his keys, and looks around the room, before grabbing the blanket on the back of the couch and a bottle of water from the fridge.

“I’m at Theo’s, at the frat house. I’m scared,” he whispers.

“I’m on my way. Stay with me on the phone, Stiles, I’ll be there in no time.”

Peter speeds out of the parking lot, listening to Stiles’ panicked heartbeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am an awful person.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter rescues Stiles and they prepare for Stiles' first heat.
> 
> NOTE: There's a threat of non-con/rape in the chapter, but nothing happens. Peter saves the day. But if you want to avoid that, skip down until you see the ***
> 
> If more tags are needed, please let me know.

Peter races to the frat house, and if he ignores a few stop signs and makes a couple pedestrians run for the sidewalk, he really doesn’t care. He pulls onto the front yard, tires digging into the damp lawn, ignoring the calls around him and pushes his way into the house.

“Dude, what are you doing?” some annoying man-child calls out, while not moving from his spot on the sofa.

Peter ignores him, and runs up the stairs two at a time. He stops at the top and turns to find Stiles, following the ripe scent of an omega going into heat.

“Kitten, I’m here,” he whispers. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he brushes damp hair off Stiles’ head. The boy’s burning up, and Peter curses Theo’s stupidity. There’s no food or water here for him, and only one light blanket. There’s two beds in the room, one looks unused, with just a pillow on it, no extra bedding for nesting. Peter opens the bottle of water, and supports Stiles as he carefully lets him sip, making sure he goes slowly enough not to choke.

“Peter? I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Stiles whimpers, clinging to his alpha’s arm.

He’s shaking and Peter wraps the blanket he brought from home around Stiles’ shoulders, making sure it’s right by his face where he can smell it. It’s the one that’s always on their couch, and many nights they’ve both fallen asleep under it. It smells like them and like home. He pushes the thin blanket around Stiles’ legs, so it’s still there to keep him warm, but Theo’s smell is further away. Petty, maybe, but Peter’s going to take care of Stiles now.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Stiles. When did you stop taking your suppressants?” Peter asks quietly, letting Stiles drink again, dabbing his mouth when he takes too much.

“Umm.” Stiles shuts his eyes, pushing his face into Peter’s neck. “Two days ago? This is day three?” he asks.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, nothing to be sorry for, I’ll take care of you,” he whispers into Stiles’ ear. A boy passes the door, slowing down and looking in, and breathing deeply, smelling Stiles’ ripe scent. Peter glares at him and snarls, making sure he keeps his fangs in. The boy moves away quickly, but Peter doesn’t relax; the house is full of alphas, and he can feel them getting anxious.

“Hey, what’s up, Peter?” Theo asks from the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

Peter wraps the blanket more closely around Stiles, helping him to lie back down, before he moves to the door, pulling Theo down the hall.

“What I’m doing here is helping Stiles, you ass. He phoned me in a panic. What the fuck were you thinking?” Peter hisses, backing Theo up against a wall.

To his credit, Theo doesn’t look too upset. Meaning he’s either brave or stupid and Peter can guess which. “He said he wanted to experience a heat. With me,” Theo says and the smug rolls off him in waves.

“Here? This is crazy, Theo. First, you cannot leave him alone when he’s going into heat. It’s heat, do you understand that? Fever, dehydration? He needs blankets and water and food. And someone with him; you can’t leave him alone.”

“I wasn’t gone long, and he had coffee before I left,” Theo answers, shrugging.

Peter takes a step back, taking a deep breath to try to calm himself. Murdering Theo will only slow him down. “That’s not enough,” he replies and glances over his shoulder when Stiles whimpers. “And here? In a house full of alphas? Do you have any idea of what will happen when he’s fully in heat? You’ll have all the other alphas in the house attacking each other, attacking you and most importantly Stiles! It’s not safe with an omega in heat in house full of alphas! You need privacy for both of your safety.”

Theo rolls his eyes and shrugs. “He’s been here plenty of times, he knows about the brothers. And besides, we’re not mated or anything. Just like you two aren’t mated.” Theo raises an eyebrow and leers, “I guess you don’t know, but he’s pretty wild when he’s _not_ in heat. I think he’d be into it.”

Later, Peter tells himself he did well by not fully shifting. His claws come out and he knows his eyes are glowing a harsh and bright blue. He grabs Theo around the neck and slams him against the wall, noting the sudden panic in his eyes. “You should never be allowed around an omega again. You shouldn’t be around any human again, but I’m too busy to take care of that now, you little bug.” He lets a claw just barely scratch Theo’s neck, leaving a welt, but not breaking the skin “So we’ll need to continue this conversation later when I have plenty of time to dedicate to your education.” He lets go and there’s a great feeling of satisfaction seeing Theo slump to the floor, eyes wide with terror. There’s not enough time for anything more, he’s got to get Stiles to safety. “Stay here,” he commands, turning away from Theo and the sudden odor of urine.

“Stiles, I’m going to take you home, back to your room at home, okay?” Peter asks, entering the room, where Stiles is curled up on his side. He’s kicked the blankets off, with just the one from home, held up to his face. Peter looks around the room, and sees his backpack, which he tosses over his shoulder before picking Stiles up. “Okay, hang on to me, and I’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Take me home, please, Peter,” Stiles whispers into his neck. Peter tries not to shiver, suddenly overwhelmed by the feel and scent of his omega. Now’s not the time, he has to get him to safety.

He carries Stiles out of the house, watching the frat boys scatter around him. There’s a small group around his car, probably because it’s a nicer car than one that’s normally parked on the front lawn. The trip home is only slightly slower than the one to the frat house.

***

Back home behind locked doors, he deposits Stiles in his room and kneels down in front of him. “Stiles? Stiles, can you listen to me?”

Stiles nods, rubbing a hand over his eye, like a sick child. “Listening.”

“Okay. I want you to take a quick shower, okay? A nice cool shower will make you feel better.” _And get that horrible smell off you_. “While you do that, I’m going to go get you something to eat.”

He waits until Stiles nods.  

“Stiles, did you take your birth control?” _Please don’t let him have stopped those._ Peter looks around and grabs the backpack he took from Theo’s and opens it, looking for Stiles’ pills. The package of birth control pills looks good, with today’s pill gone. “It looks like this is the third day without your suppressant?” he asks Stiles, looking at the other container.

The boy mumbles “sorry” and hangs his head.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to keep apologizing,” Peter says, cupping his face with his hand. “Experimenting in college is normal. But let’s get you to take today’s, okay?”

Stiles looks up with a hopeful smile and opens his mouth. Peter reaches for a nearly empty bottle of water and puts the pill in his mouth. Stiles sucks his finger into his mouth, moaning softly.

Peter shuts his eyes for a second, and then moves away. Standing and taking a breath he says, “Shower for you, okay, Stiles? You can do that right?”

He nods and starts to strip, looking at Peter from half-closed eyes. Peter’s always known his limits, so regretfully, he leaves as quickly as possible.

 

In the kitchen, he stops and listens to be sure the boy’s in the shower. He has a few minutes before he’s out and hopefully he’s not so far gone they can’t have a talk.

Peter sends a quick text to Andrew – “Stiles went into heat, he’s fine and home. Will update you as I can, but he’s safe.” He suspects Andrew will have a lot of questions, some of them uncomfortable, but that’s for later.

In spite of Stiles being gone so often, Peter’s kept the refrigerator stocked, so that’s in his favor. He grabs his phone and calls the pizza place that’s on speed dial, putting the phone on the counter as he starts putting together something fast for Stiles to eat. Sugar and protein, that’ll help him get through the start of his heat.

“University Pizza, this is Dale. Is this for pick up or delivery?” Dale is way too peppy.

“Delivery. I need two large pizzas. One with ham, mushrooms and pineapple and one with pepperoni, onions and bacon.” Both Stiles’ favorites, same as the apples and oranges he’s cutting up. Slices of turkey will be good, too.

Dale repeats the order, and Peter gives his credit card info, adding a healthy tip. “Don’t send them right away,” he says. “Make it in two hours. And when you deliver, just put them down and knock once. Got it?”

“Umm, two hours, okay. And just leave them?” Dale asks, confusion evident in his voice.

Peter sighs and says, “Leave them and go, please. I have an omega going into heat, I don’t want to upset him.”

“Oh! That’s great! Hey, do you want to do the Meaty-Heaty special then?” Dale asks, suddenly very enthusiastic.

Peter just looks at the phone on the counter, unable to respond.

“We’ll increase both pizzas to extra-large. I’ll add, uh, bacon to the first one and sausage to the second. And you get a medium sized cookie pizza, either chocolate chip, peanut butter or snickerdoodle. And two two-liter sodas. I’d recommend 7-up and root beer – all the sugar and none of the caffeine.” Dale rattles all this off so quickly, Peter can only stare at the phone.

“Um, okay,” he finally says and quickly deals with the revised cost and an extra-large tip. “Chocolate chip, yes on the sodas and remember the two-hours, that’s important.”

“Two hours, way to go! Absolutely, dude! Enjoy your heat!” Dale crows and Peter shakes his head, hearing Stiles move back into in his bedroom.

 

Thankfully Stiles put on the long-sleeved t-shirt and long pants Peter left on his bed. They’re his, soft and expensive and smelling soothingly of Peter. Stiles’ currently is sitting on the edge of the bed with his nose down the neck of the shirt, inhaling Peter’s scent. Unfortunately, his other hand is down his pants and Peter’s hit by the smell of omega in heat as he enters the room.

“Stiles, come on, you need to have a little snack, okay?” He holds out the plate and Stiles follows it as Peter sits on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Stiles climbs onto his lap and Peter feeds him slices of apples and oranges, smiling as Stiles ignores the juice running down his chin. He’s able to get a few slices of turkey into his mouth, but the boy likes the sweet fruit better. It’s calories and fluids and it’ll work, especially when he can get Stiles to drink some grape juice as well. Peter’s not sure the last time Stiles ate properly and going through a heat takes a lot of out of person. He should have been eating extra calories for the past three or four days and he’s sure Theo didn’t think of that.

After a few minutes of quietly eating, Stiles starts rocking on Peter’s lap and Peter knows it’s time they have a talk. Hopefully there’s still time for a conversation and the boy isn’t completely lost in his heat.

“Stiles? Stiles, I need you to sit back and look at me,” Peter says, gently pushing Stiles back and off his lap. He sees the wet spot on his jeans, and tries to ignore it, keeping his hands clenched into fists. “Stiles, look at me,” he says, putting a bit of alpha command into it.

Stiles looks up and there’s a bit of focus there, a small amount of Stiles looking at him. “Peter? I messed up, I’m sorry…”

“Shhh, I’m not mad at you, Stiles, it’s fine.” Peter says, hand on Stiles’ shoulder to help ground him. “But you need to listen, I need you to be here. Can you do that for a few minutes?”

Stiles nods, anxious for approval, but Peter can see he’s still there, he’s still functioning enough for the conversation.

“Stiles, you’re going into heat and I’ll help you. There’s no wrong answers here, it’s all about what you want.” He waits until Stiles nods again, noting the confusion on his face.

“I’ll make sure you’re comfortable, and have everything you need, but do you want to go through a heat with me or do you want to use substitutes? I know you have toys and I know you have a heat dildo, do you want to use those? I’ll help you with them if you need me to. Lots of omegas go through heat that way, do you want that?” Peter uses a finger to lift his chin, trying not to think about a night a million years ago on the lacrosse field when he did something similar.

“We can do that? You’ll help me, but you won’t…” Stiles bites his lip and shifts, and the smell of his slick floods Peter’s nose.

“Not if you don’t want me to. I won’t touch you like that, Stiles. I won’t knot you unless you want me to,” Peter tells him quietly.

“And if I want you to? If I don’t want to use toys, if I want you?” Stiles asks, leaning into Peter’s chest. He wraps his arms around Peter and noses into the juncture of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses along his shoulder. “Do you want me?”

Peter shuts his eyes, takes a shuddery breath and says, “I’d be honored to share your heat with you, Stiles.”

He feels Stiles smile against his shoulder and suddenly the boy sits back, eyes wide. “But you… do you want to? Really? I don’t want to force you, Peter, I can do it by myself. I did this to myself, I don’t want you to feel obligated, I don’t want…”

“Shhh, Kitten,” Peter says, cupping Stiles’ cheek again. He leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on his lips. “I do want to, as long as you do. As I said, I’d be honored to be your first heat-mate.”

Stiles hums happily and moves back to his place on Peter’s chest. His eyes go glassy and Peter knows his heat’s taking over and the time for talking is done.

“Knot me, alpha,” Stiles murmurs into Peter’s ear. “Mate me.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has his heat and Peter takes care of him. 
> 
> Oh, and there's feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to DenaCeleste who helped me with the porn at the beginning. Thank you for reading, for being a cheerleader and for your great suggestions!

Peter kneels between the boy’s legs, sucking in the smell of ripe omega. Stiles’ eyes are half closed, his lips are spit-slicked and swollen. His nipples are as well, teased into little brown peaks that Peter was happy to find so responsive. He leans forward tweaking one on his way forward for another quick kiss.

Stiles arches his back into Peter’s touch, trying to wrap an arm around his neck, but Peter moves away too quickly. He kisses his way down to Stiles’ cock, licking the puddle of pre-come off his belly while the boy wiggles happily.

“Fuck me, Peter, I want you,” he whispers, fingers clenching in Peter’s hair.

“When you’re ready,” Peter tells him. “You’re not ready yet, love, and I’d hurt you.”

Stiles whimpers and Peter licks his way down, spreading Stiles’ folds with an already slick finger. He rubs his nose on Stiles’ clit and inhales the heady aroma, then gently pushes two fingers into Stiles’ cunt as he runs his tongue around Stiles’ clit.

“Oh god there, do that,” Stiles whimpers, grabbing the sheet with one hand and Peter’s shoulder with his other. His hips buck and Peter changes hands, so the hand wet with the omega’s slick is wrapped around Stiles’ cock and he uses his other hand to enter his wetness again. He curls his fingers, looking for the place inside that will send him over the edge.

Stiles’ hand moves to Peter’s hair as he moans, his cunt hot around Peter’s fingers. “Come on love, come for me,” Peter murmurs, licking the slick from around his fingers as he pumps them inside. Stiles moans, muscles gripping Peter tight as his limbs clench and then go slack on the bed. Peter sucks Stiles into his throat, keeping his digits buried deep, thumb rubbing alongside his clit until the boy comes again, shooting into his mouth. It’s only when Stiles whimpers and tugs at Peter’s hair, everything too sensitive, that he moves, wrapping the trembling omega in his arms.

“You okay, baby?” Peter asks, rubbing Stiles’ back as he drapes himself on top of Peter.

“Hmm hmm,” Stiles mutters, wrapping a leg around Peter’s. “You’re gonna knot me now, right?” he asks, reaching between them wrapping his hand around Peter’s erection. His grip is just the right firmness and Peter shuts his eyes and concentrates to be sure he doesn’t start thrusting up into Stiles’ hand.

“Do you want to sleep first?” he asks, reaching for the bottle of juice he left on the bedside table. He takes a drink and pushes Stiles back enough for him to take a tiny sip. Not as much as Peter would like, but it’s something.

“In me,” the omega whines. His long, skillful fingers find the slit on Peter’s cock, and he looks at Peter from under his lashes, sly smile on his face. “Peter…” he whines again, trying to crawl onto Peter’s lap.

“Hold on, Kitten, give me a minute.” Peter grabs pillows and rests against the headboard, then pulls Stiles on his lap.

Stiles pushes his face into Peter’s neck and gnaws softly on his shoulder, rocking on his lap. Peter takes both their cocks in his hand, and feels Stiles’ slick puddling in his lap. “Baby, are you ready, do you want my knot?”

He tries to lift himself over Peter’s cock, using the wolf’s shoulders for support, but his legs are too shaky. When he whimpers, Peter lifts him, settling him on his erection. The boy sighs, throwing his head back as he rolls his hips, trying to find a rhythm that feels the best for him.

Peter takes Stiles by the hips and changes his angle slightly looking to hit that sweet spot that he’s sure will make Stiles howl like a cat. Stiles’ jaw drops, a moan leaving his lips and Peter feels Stiles clenching around his cock as another orgasm washes through him. He drops his head to Peter’s, and he’s barely able kiss his alpha muttering, “Love you, love you, Peter.”

Peter kisses him back, knowing the words are a result of the heat, but enjoying them anyway. “Love you, Kitten,” he says and pulls Stiles towards him, feeling his knot start to swell.

Stiles’ eyes grows wide and he grinds down on Peter, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck. Peter finds his lips again, kissing him slowly as he continues to arch into his omega. He reaches between them, stroking Stiles’ erection. It doesn’t take long until he comes again, this time as loud as Peter was hoping for, and Peter lets himself follow. It’s strong and he shuts his eyes and enjoys the rush as he pumps his omega full of his seed.

Before he’s even done with his orgasm, Stiles is asleep, arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, snuffling quietly in his neck. Peter slumps down, making sure the boy is comfortable as he waits for his knot to go down so he can sleep and get ready for the next round.

 

Later, Peter dozes while Stiles sleeps wrapped around him. There’s been several more orgasms for the omega, including knotting him again. In between, Peter’s changed the soft towels under Stiles when they get too damp and made sure the boy’s had enough to drink to stay hydrated. They break for the still warm pizza, which was delivered very nicely in slightly gaudy, thermal box. Peter’s amazed at how much Stiles can eat; he doesn’t remember his wife eating quite so much in her heats. But then again, she wasn’t a teenage boy who normally has a healthy appetite.

After a bit more sleep, Peter tries to untangle himself so he can escape the bed. A shower would be nice. And he needs to send a text to Andrew before he completely blows up the phone. Peter turned off Stiles’ cell, after hearing the faint pings coming from his bag in the other room. He should get today’s pills, both the suppressant and the birth control; it’s time Stiles has another dose. And find something else for his omega to eat when he wakes.

Peter stretches and walks towards the bathroom. Shower, text, food, maybe throw in some laundry, as they’re running out of clean towels. Peter moved them into his bedroom after round…two? Three? He’s not sure, but his room is larger and the bed is larger with the bathroom close by. And it smells only of them. Stiles pulled all the blankets into the center of the bed so he can sleep in a nest that smells of both of them – that smells of _peterstilesomegaalphafamily_.

“Peter?” Stiles’ voice is soft and rough from disuse - or maybe it’s scratchy from the moans and screams Peter pulls out of him.

“Kitten? Why are you up, are you okay?” Peter asks, studying Stiles carefully. His legs seem steadier than earlier when he helped him to the bathroom, less like a newborn foal. And he recognizes Peter, and knows his name. Earlier, when Peter was wiping him down, Stiles only called him ‘alpha’, still too overwhelmed by his heat for anything more than that instinctive reaction.

“Where are you going?” his boy asks, and Peter wants to do whatever’s needed to get the pout off his face and make him smile. “You left…”

“Just going for a shower and to get you something to eat. Do you want to nap while I do that?”

Stiles sighs and looks at Peter. They’re both nude as they’ve been for the last day and half; there’s certainly no need for modesty now. “I don’t know. You left and I watched you and…”

“I was coming back, Kitten. Promise,” Peter says, smiling gently as he cups Stiles’ cheek. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Stiles says and he grins back, leaning his face into Peter’s hand. “It was…watching your butt and your back. You look good walking away and…your back,” he finishes and shrugs.

Peter takes a breath and steps back. The air in the room is suddenly thick with the omega’s heat-scent. And it might be worse as now he can see the line of slick running down Stiles’ leg. It’s mixed with his own come and all Peter can think is _mineminemine_.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Peter says slowly, as he backs away. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”

Stiles stretches and rubs a hand through his hair, the only place that might be free of slick and come. “Yeah, I would,” he says and steps forward, wrapping his arms around Peter. “Knot me? In the shower?”

“No, baby,” Peter says, shaking his head and kissing along Stiles’ throat, which is exposed again. There’s a line of bruises along his neck and shoulders and Peter licks them, enjoying the extra warmth beneath the skin. “Not in the shower, I think one of us would get hurt.”

Stiles whines quietly, trying to get closer to Peter. “But something, right? That thing you do? With your tongue?”

Peter turns the shower on, never letting go of the younger man. “Of course, ready when you are.”

 

After their shower, with Stiles tucked back in bed, Peter takes care of his chores before going back to bed himself. After two days, Stiles should be nearing the end of his unplanned heat, and if he’s honest, Peter’s ready for it to be done. Because it’s a heat and everyone knows that what happens during a heat, stays in the heat. Or something like that. Anything that’s done or said, any of the emotions felt, they’re all driven by hormones and biology and you can’t take them seriously. You can’t believe what’s said or felt, it’s the heat talking. And after all this, he misses Stiles.

“You’re back,” Stiles whispers, pushing up against Peter’s side. He wraps an arm around Peter’s neck and moves back slightly, looking at him carefully. “You shaved. Your goatee, you shaved it.”

“Yes, I did that yesterday,” Peter answers, grinning. “I didn’t want you to get beard-burn – or at least not much more beard-burn.”

Stiles grins, reaching down to touch his tender thighs. “Thank you, that was thoughtful. I know you like your goatee; I do, too, it adds to your whole evil mastermind vibe.”

“It’ll grow back,” Peter says, with a shrug. He stretches and wraps an arm around Stiles, pulling him back down so the boy’s head is resting on his chest. “We’ll be back to normal in a few days.”

Stiles grunts and pulls a leg out from under the nest of blankets, draping it over Peter’s thighs. Then he sighs and goes back to sleep.

 

The next time Stiles wakes up, it’s because he’s too warm. He pushes the covers off his shoulders and wiggles a bit to get some room between him and Peter. Peter, he thinks, with a smirk. That’s unexpected. Well, maybe not completely unexpected. He can’t honestly say he wasn’t attracted to Peter before; since high school if he’s being honest. Creepy, lurking, way-too-smart Peter in his stupid v-necks. Peter has shared his knowledge with Stiles, and he’s always looked out for him. Stiles assumed it was because he’s the fragile human, and if he’s injured, it’s a pain in the ass. But maybe…maybe there’s something more?

At first, Peter acted like being his alpha would be a bother, a necessary evil, and amusing, too. But, after agreeing, he’s never really acted that way. He’s supported Stiles’ choices of classes, listened to him talk through what he might want as a career, offering suggestions, but never pushing.

God knows he’s been great with Stiles dating, even with the batch he’s picked. Again, supportive when he’s dating them and supportive of his break ups.

And with Theo… Stiles shudders thinking of how that could have gone, and what have happened if Peter hadn’t have come – well, if he hadn’t have had to come to his rescue. Peter fucking Hale, white knight when Stiles needed him, who would have thought?

The alpha thing? Stiles has met a few alphas, more than he’s told Peter about. Although the way Peter scent marks him when he comes home, he might be aware of the alphas who stand just a little too close or look at him a little too long. Theo didn’t seem to care if the other alphas in the frat house would crowd him, or sniff him when he was trying to get coffee in the morning.

Peter doesn’t do that stuff, not in a rude alpha way, just in his usual werewolf way. And it _is_ different, the wolf touching him, providing for him, protecting him, taking care of him, making sure Stiles knows he’s family and pack and still treating him better than anyone else in the pack and…

Holy shit. Peter loves him.

Stiles looks over at his sleeping alpha, his wolf. Peter’s mouth is open, just a little, hair mussed with sleep and probably from Stiles’ hands grabbing at it. Stiles grins a little, thinking of the last two days and he does remember all of it. He didn’t think he wanted to go into heat, but after agreeing to it, this was everything he could have wanted. And with a much better alpha. He blushes a bit, remembering how demanding he was and smiles at how tender and full of passion and caring Peter was, even when Stiles wasn’t able to really make his wants known.

And Peter wouldn’t touch him until he was sure that Stiles wanted to share his heat with a partner, and not just with the toy collection in his bedside table. And he wanted him, it wasn’t just an alpha doing his duty, it was Peter wanting him. And Stiles wanting Peter and not just for his heat. He tried to tell Peter before, but he wasn’t sure that Peter didn’t think of him as an obligation or …

“What’s wrong, Stiles? I can hear you thinking, it’s keeping me awake,” Peter mutters, not bothering to open his eyes.

Stiles jumps, just a little, and swallows loudly. “Just thinking. About this stuff and what we did.”

”You okay?” Peter rolls over and faces him. There’s a hint of his beard back and it makes Stiles rub his own jaw. He also has just a bit of beard; Peter must have shaved him at some time during the last couple of days. That’s kind of adorable.

“I’m okay,” Stiles says. “I love you.”

“I know,” Peter whispers.

Stiles looks at Peter, who has shut his eyes again, apparently ready to go back to sleep. So Stiles punches him in the stomach.

“You know? That’s your answer? What kind of thing is that to say?” Stiles sits up, pulling the blanket back up around his lap, cold again.

Peter rubs his stomach and glares at Stiles. “Star Wars reference? I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Oh.” What does that mean? “Oh, I didn’t get it at first. But…that means what exactly?”

Peter sits up, leaning against his stack of pillows. “It means…it means I’m glad you’re comfortable and I’m glad you’re happy here. And your heat is ending and that’s good. I hope it was good for you and thank you for sharing it with me.”

“Okay. But that doesn’t sound like a response when someone says they love you.” Stiles suddenly wants to go back an hour and curl up under Peter’s arm and warm his nose in Peter’s neck. “I said I love you and you said…”

“You know that omegas can’t enter into contracts until a doctor’s certified that they’re not within ten days of their heat?  Not before their heat starts or after their heat. It’s because there’s still effects of the heat; it may seem that it’s over, but there’s still so many hormones in play,” he says, apparently changing the subject. And he has this kindly look on his face that Stiles isn’t used to and doesn’t really like.

“God, that’s so condescending. Not _allowed_ to enter into a contract? That’s more alpha superiority shit.” Stiles moves back, crossing his arms over his bare chest. And something flakes off his chest, which is a little embarrassing, as he realizes it and realizes that he also smells like someone who’s been fucked ten ways to Sunday.

“It’s not meant to be. There was a rich omega several years back who spent a heat with an alpha she’d just met and went out and bought him a very expensive car. After she realized it a few days later, she sued him and the car dealership. She won her case, saying she was incapacitated and the deal shouldn’t have been allowed,” Peter explains patiently, watching Stiles who suddenly looks and smells off.

He looks away nodding and says, “Oh, yeah, I remember reading about that in People or something. She was some famous person or something.” He looks back at Peter and joins him against the headboard, shoving a pillow behind his back. He also pulls the covers up a little more, so they’re just under his armpits.

“Are you warm enough?” Peter asks softly. He reaches over the side of the bed and pulls a flannel pajama top from off the floor. “I thought you might need this today. As your heat ends, you may get warm and then cold.”

Stiles pulls the shirt on over his head, pulling the collar over to smell it; it smells like Peter. “So I’m still in heat and nothing I say or feel is real? Is that what you’re telling me?” He keeps his head down as though the shirt’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. Dammit these hormones, he feels like he might cry.

Peter puts a gentle hand on his arm and says, “What I’m saying is – let’s table this discussion for a bit. Ten days from now and we’ll talk again about…well, about anything you want to talk about. Okay?”

Nodding, Stiles looks out the bedroom window. The sun’s up and he’s not quite sure what day it is, which does reinforce what Peter’s suggested. Now might not be the time to make decisions about the future. Or if it’s their future.

“I’d like to sleep a bit more, how about you? Are you more tired or hungry?”

“I’m tired still, I think,” Stiles replies and shimmies under the covers, pulling the flannel shirt down. There’s a thick towel under him and he grimaces and pulls it out tossing it on the floor. The sheet under him is soft and maybe a little damp, but not too annoying. “Is it okay if I sleep next to you,” he asks, and maybe he sounds a little petulant, but at least he’s not crying.

“I hope you will,” Peter says, and he lies back down, opening his arms for Stiles to scoot against him, little spoon against Peter’s chest.

“Ten days,” Stiles murmurs and falls asleep surrounded by Peter’s scent.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and his father talk. And ten days later, Peter and Stiles talk.

Things go back to normal after Stiles’ heat. He moves back into his own room and Peter does loads of laundry. Loads and loads, without complaint or comment, for which Stiles is thankful. When Peter’s out of the apartment, Stiles talks with his father for a long time. He isn’t sure if the two of them planned it, but given that Andrew isn’t upset at Peter – or at Stiles – he thinks maybe there was an idea to give him time to talk things over with his father in private.

“I talked with the police there,” Andrew says almost an hour into their call. “I suggested they talk with Theo regarding charges for omega endangerment.”

“And?” Stiles asks. He’s been back at school and everything seems the same. No one is giving him any particular type of look at all and he’s happy this is college and not high school, where he’d probably be the subject of a lot of gossip. But he hasn’t seen Theo and he’s certainly not planning on seeking him out. Not that he’s scared, but, no. No desire to see the alpha douchebag or his creepy house mates at all.

“And he took off. They questioned some of his frat brothers and his teachers and he’s left the school. The police said they’re going to try to find him at his parents, but I think since he’s off campus, that’s a lower priority.”

“Hmm, interesting. Did anyone say why or what he said?” Not that Stiles cares, but he does want to be sure Peter’s not going to be questioned.

“He told one of the guys he was living with that his life was in danger. Apparently, he’s known to be dramatic, so they just let him go.” Andrew pauses and says, “Personally, I’d like to find him, if not to prosecute him, then at least to make sure it’s recorded with the OPD.”

Stiles snorts and says, “What would they do? How much protection does the Omega Protection Department actually provide, Dad?”

“Well, they wouldn’t let him register with an omega anywhere in the country for a start. I think that’s a good thing,” Andrew answers and Stiles can picture him scrubbing his hair, the way he does when he’s exasperated with Stiles. It’s a familiar look.

“Okay, I guess that’s good,” he says shrugging, even though his father can’t see it. “Since setting Peter after him would probably be a little extreme. And I don’t want Peter to get in any trouble, for you know, killing someone.” Stiles pauses, and tries to decide how much he wants to follow on this. On the one hand, he’d like to just forget Theo ever existed and get on with his life. On the other hand, Theo is clearly a menace to society. And no, Peter should never be allowed to be in a hundred mile radius of him. Although if there’s another hand, no one would find the body. “Theo lives in Marin County. I think he said Mill Valley. He’s probably back there with his parents.

There’s silence on the other end of the phone, except for Andrew’s sigh and the scratching of paper against pencil, while his father takes notes. “They probably know, but I’ll pass that on. Normally, as your alpha, Peter’d need to make the complaint and push on this, but since I’m a Sheriff, I’ll do it. They’ll listen to me officer-to-officer, if not Dad-to-Dad.” He pauses for a minute and says, “I’m glad Peter was there for you, son. He kept me updated on how you were doing and…no, I don’t ever want details, but I know he took care of you.  I can’t even imagine what could have happened…”

Stiles takes a breath, unable to keep a smile off his face. “Well, now that you mention it, Dad, there’s something else I want to talk with you about.”

 

On day ten, Peter wakes up, stretches and listens for Stiles. He’s in the house, in the living room, singing something under his breath. Peter smells coffee, but no food, so the boy probably hasn’t eaten yet.

He’s very aware of what day it is: the day they could have their conversation about what might be their future. Neither’s mentioned anything over the last week plus. Maybe there’s been a bit more touching, casual brushes on the arm or shoulder, but that might just be needed reassurance after Stiles’ heat. He remembers that from Tricia, both of them needing a little extra grounding the weeks after a heat.

Pulling on enough clothes to be decent, Peter enters the living room and stops when he sees Stiles sitting on the couch, two coffee cups in front of him, and something large in front of the sofa, covered by a bedsheet.

“About time you got up, lazy wolf,” he says, grinning. “Here, have some coffee.”

“Good morning, Stiles,” Peter says, taking the cup with a grateful smile. He sips from it, settling down next to the boy with a contented sigh. They both sit in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes and finally Peter gestures to the item in front of them with his cup. “Should I ask about this?”

“Oh this?” Stiles asks, eyes wide and as innocent as Bambi. “Here, let me show you.”

He pulls the cover off with a flourish and reveals a white board on a metal easel, possibly “borrowed” from one of Stiles’ classes. The heading, in Stiles’ messy printing, reads “Reasons I’m in Love With You (in no particular order)”.

Peter leans back and sips his coffee, reading the board with a small smile on his face.

  * You take care of me and make sure I eat right
  * You agreed to be my alpha when I needed one
  * You didn’t turn me when I said I didn’t want it
  * You respect my intelligence
  * You’re as much of an asshole as I am
  * You get along with my Dad
  * Rimming
  * (Actually all the sex)
  * (My dad doesn’t need details on this)
  * You made sure to get consent before we had sex
  * You talk with me about your family
  * You helped me with my dates, even though you hated them.
  * You think I deserve a real job
  * You eat pineapple on your pizza
  * You shaved for me (see previous notes re: rimming)
  * You won’t make me have children
  * You love me, too



Peter makes a quiet “hmm” as he studies the board. “Your printing is terrible.”

“I know,” Stiles says, with a shrug. “I was going to do this whole Power Point presentation thing. Big slide show, flashy graphics.”

“This is fine. You probably would have used Comic Sans anyway, and I would have had to leave.” Peter leans over and kisses Stiles’ temple. “Liked the rimming, did you?”

Stiles grins, ducking his head as his smell gets warm and pleased. “Maybe.” He pauses and reaches for Peter’s hand. “I can’t believe you sent my father a birthday card.”

Peter shrugs and says, “No big deal. He’s pack after all.”

“Oh that was all?” Stiles asks, grinning. “And I suppose you sent a card to Isaac for his birthday?”

“Which one is he again?”

“Baby face, wears a scarf, is completely pointless,” Stiles offers, smiling because Isaac is one of Peter’s favorite betas to insult.

“Hmm, I must have forgotten,” Peter says, rubbing his face in Stiles’ hair for a few seconds. He goes back to studying the board and says, “You know, if you don’t mind my saying it, most of what you have here is common decency. Really nothing all that special.”

“Special to me,” Stiles says. “Maybe I don’t expect a lot, but…” His scent turns sour and he falls silent.

“You should expect more, Stiles. You’re special. I wish I was able to make you know that.” Peter wraps an arm around Stiles’ shoulder, pulling him close.

“You do make me feel special. You make me feel cared for and I think I could take care of you, too.” He point to his display and says, “See, right there. You love me too. It’s in writing, it must be true.”

Peter hums briefly, and then picks up his phone from the coffee table and takes a picture of the board.

“What’s that for?” Stiles asks.

“I figure in a few years when you swear you hate me, I can pull out this picture and remind you why you don’t,” Peter tells him, putting the phone on the couch next to him.

“In a few years? You think we’ll be together in a few years?” Stiles smells of hope and happiness, washing away the vinegary smell.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be in each other’s lives, don’t you? If nothing else, we are pack, after all,” he answers dropping his head to run his nose up Stiles’ neck, in a way that he doesn’t do with all the pack. Certainly not Isaac.

Stiles tilts his head, giving Peter better access and after a minute he says, “I was thinking maybe more, right? Maybe?”

“You’re nineteen. You need to finish college,” Peter states. But he doesn’t move away.  

“Duh,” Stiles responds, but rubs his cheek against Peter’s to take any sting out of it. “And I’m getting a job afterwards. A career. I want to accomplish something.”

Peter grins against Stiles’ temple and says, “I know, it’s on the board, so I’ve heard it must be true.”

“So what do you suggest? You’re always saying you’re older and wiser than me. I know you’re older at least,” Stiles says with a smirk. “How old are you anyway?”

“We could do that mundane thing and date each other. Since we already live together, it’ll be easier, I’m sure.”

Stiles gets up and starts pacing. He’s been waiting days for this conversation and now sitting too long, and even sitting next to Peter, great as that is, he still needs to move. “Dating? I like dating. So dinner and movies and things? And you’re ignoring the age thing?”

Watching the boy pace, Peter replies, “Certainly, if those are things you like to do on dates. It’s not like we haven’t gone to movies together before. And really, is age relevant?”

Stiles shakes his head and says, “Yeah, we’ve gone to movies together, but it would be different. Different intent? I dunno, just different. Good different.” He turns his back, looking at the board and his scent changes to something like _doubt-fear_?  “Only dating each other, right? That would be the idea?”

“Don’t look at me, Kitten, you’re Miss Congeniality, not me,” Peter answers, eyebrow raised. He doesn’t want to make demands, but honestly, if Stiles brings another date into his home, he can’t guarantee the claws won’t come out.

“Hmm, I guess so.” Stiles looks around the room, finally saying, “So we’ll end up meeting each other’s friends?”

“Scott? Oh god, bite someone one time and no one lets you forget it. I guess I can be civil to him, if you insist,” Peter says, rolling his eyes and trying to grab Stiles’ hand to pull him closer. 

“I’m not expecting you two to become besties, but it would be nice if my boyfriend and best friend could be in the same room without killing each other.” Stiles sighs and says, “Although he’s kind of warming to the idea of you. It’s strange, everyone’s warming up to the idea of you.”

“Because I’m awesome,” Peter states, standing and pulling Stiles into a hug. “And people recognize I take good care of you.”

“Maybe.” Stiles rests his chin on Peter’s shoulder, letting the older man support him. “Hey, dating and meeting each other’s friends, good. Umm, but where does this go from there?”

Peter kisses his neck, concentrating on a spot below his ear that got a good reaction during Stiles’ heat. He’s pleased it still gets that reaction, the boy shuddering in his arms. “I suppose whatever we’d like. No rush, we can take it easy and play it by ear.” _Or I can find a nice cave to carry you off to, and keep you naked and safe and mine forever._

“Okay, just checking.” Stiles takes a step backwards, shaking his head to clear out the fog. “I didn’t have this part planned out. Beyond you being thrilled and there was kissing and stuff.”

The wolf runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair, tracing the shell of his ear. “I like stuff. Stuff is good. If you wanted to sleep in my room any nights, there could be more stuff.”

“I’d like that. Your bed is very comfortable.”

“Would you like me to get you a pre-engagement ring? I can ask Scott where to find the tiniest diamond available,” Peter asks, grinning into Stiles’ neck. “Well, the second tiniest, since he clearly won that round.”

“Not yet, I don’t think. I mean…” he steps back again and says, “Not yet, okay? I want to finish college and get established in a job and…”

“Yes,” Peter interrupts him, taking Stiles’ hands and kissing his knuckles. “Yes, to all of that. There’s plenty of time in the future, whenever you’re ready. I am in this for the long haul, Stiles, and I want a mate who will be happy with themselves, not just someone to clean the house and share their heats with me.”

Stiles grins, looking down, suddenly shy and Peter sees pink rise on his cheeks. He smells happy and healthy with a tinge of lust thrown in. “Good. That’s good, because that’s what I want, too.”

Peter looks back at the board and kisses his omega on the forehead, finally feeling like he’s free to do that and more. “If you’re in the mood, we could go and have all the sex now.”

“Oh, question for you – your, um, recovery period during my heat? Was that because of the heat or because of the werewolf? Because that was pretty awesome,” Stiles asks, as he walks backwards towards Peter’s bed.

He shrugs and lets himself be led, without any fight.  “Werewolf. I hope I wasn’t too disappointing, I’m no longer a teenager, you know.”

“You’re how old again?” Stiles pulls his shirt over his head and stops to watch Peter undress, because he can.

“Old enough to buy alcohol, too young for social security,” Peter responds, and picks up his omega, tossing him gently on the bed.

“You’re horrible,” Stiles says and holds his arms open for his alpha.

Peter moves into his embrace, and finally kisses him the way he’s wanted to. Awake and aware and their own decision, finally choosing each other. “I do love you, too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick epilogue left, cause I do love the epilogues!
> 
> Thanks, everyone who has read this and left such nice comments.  
> Come say hello on Tumblr, I'm RebaKitt3n over there.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little epilogue, six years after the last chapter.
> 
> If you want everything happy and light read the first part and stop when you get to the ***.
> 
> If you want to know what happens with Theo, keep going. That part is two years after the last chapter or four years before the epilogue.

Six Years Later

 

When the elevator dings, Peter leads the way out the door, stopping briefly to check the signs posted on the wall.

“Are you okay, do you want me to take her?” Stiles asks, taking off their daughter’s hat and smoothing down her hair. It’s dark and there’s a lot of it, currently sticking up due to static electricity.

Peter checks the sling carrier she’s tucked into, cupping her bottom and making sure she’s still secure. “She’s fine,” he says, smiling at Stiles. “She’s asleep. We need to go that way.” He points down the hall and puts an arm over Stiles’ shoulder, pulling him in, closer to him and to their baby.

Stiles runs a hand over the baby’s head and gives a weak smile to Peter. “If you’re sure you don’t want me to take her…”

“I think I’m capable of carrying a ten pound child, Stiles. I’ll let you know if I need help,” Peter says, and leans over to kiss his mate’s temple.

“I know, I know. It’s fine, I’m just…” he smiles at Peter and strokes the baby’s head again, saying “I’m just scent marking her.”

“I’d believe that if you didn’t smell like a giant ball of anxiety.” Peter opens the door to an office and nods at Stiles to enter. When they’re in, they quickly find two chairs together and Peter takes the still sleeping baby from the sling, handing her to Stiles. “Here, you’ve gone without her for, what, ten minutes? Huge accomplishment for you.”

Stiles holds her against his shoulder, burying his face in neck, inhaling her baby powder scent. “Sorry, I thought I could let you carry her, but…”

“No worries, at least you let me change her,” Peter assures him, checking on their appointment time in his phone. “We have just a few minutes before we’re called.”

“Good, I want to get her out of here,” Stiles says, kissing the girl’s forehead, and giving everyone in the room the side-eye. “I don’t like her around all these people; it’s like a TB ward in here.”

Peter rubs his hand around Stiles’ neck, scenting and soothing him. “It’s good for her to get around other people. It’ll strengthen her immune system.”

“Really? So why does that kid over there look so snotty?” Stiles whispers, jutting his chin at a family who is hopefully out of earshot.

“They’re not the child of a born werewolf,” Peter whispers back, kissing Stiles’ temple again. “Our children are always extra strong.”

“That’s good. I know she needs to be around people other than the pack, I just hate it,” Stiles replies as he turns her face towards him. “So what are the chances of Andi being a wolf?”

“I’ve told you, it’s probably about fifty-fifty. But it’s fine either way, Kitten.”

“Of course it is, she’s perfect already,” Stiles replies and points to a woman standing in a service window. “Hey, that’s our number, isn’t it?”

Peter checks his phone again and the “next serving” number above the window and nods. “Yes, that’s us,” he says, standing and holding out his arm to help Stiles stand while balancing the baby. Peter grabs the diaper bag from the chair next to him and they approach the window.

“Good morning,” the woman says. Marnee according to name tag. She checks her computer and smiles, looking up as she says, “I’ve got your records right here, congratulations on your baby.”

Peter pulls out some papers from inside his jacket pocket and pushes them through the window. “Here’s the paperwork you’ll need and her birth certificate.”

Marnee looks at the birth certificate and at her screen and says, “Andrea Frances Stilinski-Hale. Pretty. And you’re using both names.” She smiles softly and Stiles recognizes the wonder on the face of a fellow omega. Once again, he thinks of how lucky he is to have found Peter.

Before Stiles can say anything, Peter jumps in and says, “Of course.” He puts his arm around Stiles’ waist and pulls him a little closer, so their hips bump together. “Stiles is already well known in the legal field; he’s currently working on a project for a lie detector test that will be allowed as evidence in all courts.”

“I’m part of the project, Peter, that’s all,” Stiles tells them both, blush rising on his cheeks.

“He’s modest,” Peter tells Marnee. “He’s leading the project, his name is first on the list, which obviously isn’t alphabetical.”

Marnee grins and keeps keying and she says, “That’s great, congratulations. On both accomplishments.”

Andi yawns and wiggles, before she settles back down in Stiles’ arms. “We have her bottle, right?” Stiles asks, glancing at Peter and the diaper bag.

“We have everything,” he answers, checking the clock on the wall behind Marnee. “But she’s not due to be fed for another hour.” They haven’t gone away from home often, but now that she’s a month old, she’s kind of on a schedule and Peter knows every minute of it.

“You’ll be done in just a few minutes,” Marnee assures them.

There’s a bit more keying to be done and then papers to be signed. Peter brought the papers from the hospital with Andi’s foot prints on them to be put into her records. Both he and Stiles sign the official records registering her birth.

Marnee smiles and prints out copies of the forms, handing them to Peter. “Again, congratulations on your daughter. I hope we see you both again.”

Stiles shrugs and Peter just smiles, taking Stiles by the elbow and leading him out of the office back towards the hallway.

 

“Hey, where are we going?” Stiles asks, turning and looking at the bank of elevators as they pass them.

“I just thought we might visit here,” Peter answers, entering the large office across from the birth registry office.

“Marriage licenses?” Stiles asks, reading the sign on the wall. “Umm, we’re here because….”

“Because we’ve been together for years. And we intend to spend the rest of our lives together?”

“True.” Andi decides now is the time to yawn and stretch, tiny hand in a mitten briefly grasping Stiles’ shirt before she settles, pushing her face into his throat.

“And we have a beautiful child. And I think it would make your father happy; I’ve heard him refer to me as ‘my son’s alpha and his child’s father’. It might be nice if he just called me your husband.”

Stiles grins into Andi’s hair and shrugs. “He can be a little passive aggressive. I come by it naturally you know.”

Peter leans towards him, kissing Stiles’ cheek and nuzzling the top of Andi’s head. “Oh believe me, after this many years, I know.”

“So you want to do this, eh? Make you happy?” he asks, scratching his chin.

“I’m happy now,” Peter answers. “This would make me happier. And it’s just getting the license today, we’ll have to make plans for the actual wedding. As plain or fancy as you want it.”

“Speaking of fancy, what about a ring? You’re gonna propose and not get me a ring?” Stiles looks down at Andi and whispers in her ear, “Your daddy’s being cheap.”

Peter takes Stiles’ left hand and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring, shiny with a row of diamonds. “Sorry it’s not smaller, but since I assumed you’d want us to have matching ones, I had to be sure I liked it.”

“Wow, that’s thoughtful,” he says, looking at the band on his finger. “You’re not going to get on one knee and declare your undying love, et cetera?”

Peter stands silently for a moment and says, “I will, if you want me to, but I hope you know that from my actions every day.”

Stiles looks away, blinking rapidly. “Bastard. You know I’m still all hormonal and you’re trying to make me cry.”

“I’m not trying, I never want to see you cry. It’s just that you’re a big wuss.” Peter grins back, squeezing Stiles’ hand and getting a smile out of him. He digs in his pocket again, pulling out another ring and puts it on his finger, holding out the hand to admire it.

“You got a matching one? That’s good, it looks nice.” Stiles holds his hand and studies the ring for a minute. “Oh my god, you got a manicure, didn’t you? You are the vainest person I’ve ever met.”

Peter shrugs and grins as he says, “I wanted to be sure the ring looked the best it could. To impress you.”

“Andi, your daddy is a doofus.” He kisses their daughter, hiding his face in her neck until he’s regained a little of his composure. “You know my dad’s going to want a big wedding and probably a minister or something like that,” Stiles says as he shifts the baby to his other hip and looks at his ring again.

“We can do that, if you’d like. Or we can elope. It’s up to you, Stiles.”

Stiles looks around the room, happy couples, some with children. “Okay, Peter, let’s get married.”

Peter grins and kisses his mate, carefully leaning over their daughter so they don’t crush her. “Thank you, Stiles. You know this, but I love you.”

The omega wraps his hand around his alpha’s neck, giving him another kiss and says, “I know.”

**************

Four Years Earlier

Article from the Marin Journal, Monday, June 3

Marin Man Killed in Mountain Lion Attack on Mount Tam

Lifelong Marin County resident Theodore “Theo” Raeken was attacked and killed in Mount Tamalpais State Park on Sunday, as reported by State Park representatives.

Park representatives report Raeken was killed by a mountain lion while on one of the park trails. The attack was witnessed by two park visitors, who phoned for help at approximately 2:00 p.m. on Sunday.

“It came out of the bushes, knocked him down and was on his chest in seconds,” reports witness Erica Reyes, a student at UC Santa Cruz. “It just ripped him open, there was nothing anyone could do.”

The second witness, Isaac Lahey, also a student at UC Santa Cruz said, “It was definitely a cougar or a mountain lion, or whatever they’re called. It certainly wasn’t a wolf; there are no wolves in Northern California.”

Park officials closed the park for the remainder of Sunday looking for the animal. While mountain lions are occasionally seen in the park, they usually are spotted at night. However, continued drought conditions have caused animals to seek larger territories in search of food or water.

Raeken was a student at Marin University, studying sports and recreational medicine. “His life was getting back on track,” reports his father, William Raeken, owner of Raeken Motors in San Rafael. “He was finally cleared of the restrictions put on him from the OPD a couple of years ago; they realized their mistake and he was seeing a nice omega girl. I think they would have married if this tragedy hadn’t happened.”

The park is expected to reopen for visitors on Tuesday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments, I'm blown away by the reception to this fic!
> 
> I'm on tumblr as Rebakitt3n, come by and share some head canons or whatever.


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